


14:8

by Huzuzu470



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Canon Era, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Graphic Violence, Religious Conflict, Slavery, Switch Erwin Smith, Switch Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huzuzu470/pseuds/Huzuzu470
Summary: “Erwin? What do you think?”A second figure appears from behind him, taller still than his father, his eyes piercing blue and his smooth blonde hair combed back neatly. He, for all his stature, reeked of the power and authority of an alpha, and Levi’s breath catches in his throat as it tightens in panic.His eyes lock against Levi’s for a second, the briefest shadow flickering over them before he looks away, his gaze falling on the mountains in the distance.“I see no outward problems.”
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 26
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> some notes before we start:
> 
> \- holy shit it's been a while since i've posted anything  
> \- this is a/b/o, yes, however I’ve made some modification to the original trope that may be a bit confusing if you’re not paying attention. I think i’ve done an ok job of making it relatively obvious where things are different, however if you’re confused i will add in the endnotes all of the alterations so y’all can clarify anything that doesn’t click at first. one thing i will say now is there’s no knots bc… that’s less the point of the fic. yes there is sex involved i guess, but i don’t want the sexual content to be the main focus here.  
> \- on a similar note it’s a fic that heavily ties into the topic of slavery. there’s a lot of power dynamic issues within this fic, which is why im giving it a dub-con tag, bc i feel like you can only ever have dub-con with such a wide disparity between characters. that being said there’s a lot of social commentary as well, some intentional and some that im sure will upset some folks. please be aware of that while reading.  
> \- ive tried to use a/b/o in this context to not only highlight that power dynamic but also break out of gender norms and preconceived notions of power/power roles, but im not a perfect person. if this fic does upset you, i appreciate feedback, however please also bear in mind that a lot of thought has gone into this, and I’ve spent most of that thought trying to make sure the presentation isn’t blasé or nonchalant. some parts of this i spent the entire summer rewriting, or figuring out a way to present it properly. this is also why I’ve not posted anything in a hot minute or two, whoops. (i will get back on ISCK and deep waters soon, i HAVE most of the storyboarding done for BOTH it’s just the actual WRITING that’s killing me rn. alas.)  
> \- there are also some thinly veiled metaphors for queerness. just a warning. (i’m trans and very not straight myself, so again, feedback welcome, but also bear that in mind. a lot of the queer content/metaphors/whatever you want to call it are based on my own experiences and perspective. the same can’t be said for the power dynamic issue, so im less worried about this, for… lack of better words.)  
> \- finally, im a sucker for Bad Guy Mike, but i still love him. needless to say i broke out of character just a little though (not just for mike, but for everyone) to reflect their life circumstances better. there are some characters i didn't tag, i just tagged those most important to the story.
> 
> i hope all of that didn't scare you away, and that yall like it though! there’s just a lot going on that i wanted to get into the clear first.  
> \- zuz <33

“Up,” the man orders, and Levi flinches backwards, expecting a hit to follow. His breath catches in his throat, the bucket of fruit falling from his hands and smacking into the ground roughly, and there’s a streak of pain across his back.

He bites his tongue and holds back the growl forming deep in his stomach.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he mutters, and the supervisor steps up to him, running the switch under Levi’s chin. He smirks arrogantly, well aware of his position of power, eyes flashing behind the glass lenses perched on his nose.

“No,” he says, circling around him slowly, like a cat playing with a mouse, “not yet.” He snaps his teeth next to Levi’s ear, laughs as he jerks away, and adds, pointing with the branch, “Though, you _did_ drop that.”

There’s another red hot slash across his shoulders, searing straight through the coarse fabric of his shirt, and Levi falls to his knees, hands wrapping over the back of his neck to protect it, curling inwards. He grits his teeth and exercises every goddamn fibre of self control in his body, trying to hold still, to give no further reaction to the pain.

“Zackley?” another voice says, and Levi looks up, shaking, eyes darting carefully from the floor. 

A second man is waiting, lingering a few feet back, his clothes sticking out like a peacock in a henhouse. Levi hardly needs to take one look to avert his gaze instinctively, finds himself looking down again to avoid meeting his stare. He can smell his cologne, rich and intense, even from over here. A working man would never wear any of that on the block.

This man is very obviously not here to work, though.

His hands are folded behind his back as he eyes Levi up and down. _“This_ is the one you had in mind?” he asks, and Zackley grunts. He sounds almost unimpressed, his eyes cold.

“Stand,” he orders. Levi does as he’s told, his hands held tightly on either side of his ribs. The man walks up, slowly, grabs him by the chin and turning his face from side to side as he does, grip harsh on his jaw. His irises are brown, golden almost in the late afternoon sun that creeps under his glasses, and where his hair isn't greyed, it’s a dirty blonde. “He’s a..?”

“Beta, sir,” the supervisor says. Levi freezes at the first word, and then his eyes widen, registering the respectful addition. If even _Zackley_ is calling him sir, then that meant that this was —

Elias Smith peers into Levi’s eyes, seemingly checking them like he was making sure that they worked properly. He’s seen other men, typically potential buyers, do the same thing with the donkeys and mules in the stables on sale day. His gaze lingers on Levi’s skin, tanned brown and cracked where it’s burned from the sun. 

His nose wrinkles. “He’s got good production?”

“Decent enough. Obedient, though sometimes he needs a beating to remind him of it. He’d make a good addition.”

A pause falls between them as he hums to himself, checking over Levi’s arms and shoulders, his hands falling roughly on the scars across his chest and back, grazing the tissue around the mark on his shoulder, and he turns his head. “Erwin? What do you think?” 

A second figure appears from behind him, taller still than his father, his eyes piercing blue, smooth blonde hair combed back neatly. He, for all his stature, reeked of the power and authority of an alpha, and Levi’s breath catches in his throat as it tightens in panic. 

His eyes lock against Levi’s for a second, the briefest shadow flickering over them before he looks away, his gaze falling on the mountains in the distance. 

“I see no outward problems.”

The man nods and turns back to Zackley. Levi dips his head again, livid, humiliated. He can see some of the others in the next piece gathering to watch the spectacle, feels a red hot ball sinking lower and lower in his gut. The hair on the back of his neck stands, tense, as he waits for what comes next. 

And then, with a suddenness that provides no comfort, he feels Zackley’s hand connect to the back of his skull, the world blipping out of existence as his vision blurs and darkens, head thunking into the dirt.

* * *

Levi sits bolt upright, his head throbbing with pain. His first reaction is to realize he has no idea where he is, his body numb in the wake of the blackout. 

His second reaction is to realize he’s in a bed, a calm, dark figure sitting on the floor just off the edge of the mattress, a lit candle on the side table. There’s a ragged, woollen blanket pulled up to his neck.

“You’ll make the headache worse if you sit up suddenly like that,” she says, and leans in a little so he can make out her face better in the dim light. Long, thinning hair hangs in front of her eyes, brown streaked with grey. Levi notices one of the sockets is empty, the lid sunken into the hole, scrunched tightly together. 

“I’m Hanji,” she offers, a weak smile at the edge of her lips. “You’ve been moved in with us to maintain the manor.” 

He shakes his head, only making it swim more, and kicks off the blanket, trying to swing his legs out of the bed. They falter, weak, and Hanji puts a hand over his knee and shakes her head.

“Seriously,” she says, tone gravelly and severe, “you’ll only make it hurt more. You need to rest until your brain recovers a little bit.”

Levi grits his teeth and snarls at her, and the fact that she actually has the audacity to _laugh_ at him only makes him more furious. 

“Where the _fuck_ am I?”

“You’re in the Smith manor.” She repeats it patiently, though there’s still a curl to her lip as she says it, a bit annoyed. Levi blinks again, unsure he’s heard her correctly as she mutters under her breath. “I _did_ already tell you that.”

“Why?”

He’s never been _in_ the manor before, has hardly ever even seen it from a distance. He didn't even know if slaves were _allowed_ inside. On hot, humid days, Farlan and him had sat under the grove of maple trees in the evenings, if and when they had time, and tried to see if they could make out anyone sitting in the gardens, on the porches, walking along the smooth stone walls. But otherwise, all the slaves has strict orders to stay away, and the barking of the dogs in the kennel behind the main building was good motivation to do just that.

“One of the kitchen boys got sick a few months ago.” She pauses, sits back in her chair, watches Levi and folds her arms over her ribs, hands tucked into her armpits. Something about the way she moves reminds Levi of the poise and grace of a wild animal. “He never got around to getting better,” she adds, her voice dropping grimly. 

“Oh.” He feels the anger recede for a second, enough that he feels a little bad actually, watches her falter before bouncing back just as aggressively as before, the same manic grin plastered on her face. 

“So! You’ve gotten his room and his old job instead!”

Someone off to the side grumbles something angry. Levi blinks once, twice, turns to look at the other bed where a man with short cropped black hair lies, his face buried into the pillow, and she giggles.

“It’s a shared room, so you’ll have to play nice, okay?” She turns to the second bed, leaning in slowly next to the guy to ruffle the top of his head, and is met by a long string of curse words. “Keiji, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Shut the _fuck_ up, Zoe,” the man hisses, flipping over in the bed so that he’s facing away from them. Levi watches the exchange with morbid curiosity, feels an eyebrow hike up his forehead at the absurdity of it all. 

Something about the whole situation felt too surreal, like if he pinched himself he might have woken up in his old bed, Isabel tucked safely against his chest. He’d sit up, and Farlan would be staring out into the distance, watching the sun rise like he does every morning, thinking.

“Where’s Zackley?” he demands. He’s almost certain this is all some sick fucking joke at this point, shrinking back as she reaches out to touch his arm. 

She doesn’t answer, rolls up his sleeve instead and traces the outline of the brand on his shoulder. “Zackley still works in the fields?” she asks quietly, squinting as she peers closely at it. “I thought the old perverted fuck would be dead by now.”

Levi shivers, tries to jerk his arm away, but her hand has a grip of steel, and he’s still weak from — _however_ long he was out for. Judging by the fact there’s another person trying to sleep, it must have been at least a few hours. She lets him go anyways, clearly sensing his discomfort.

“You know him?”

This time when she smiles, it's a little more sad than anything else. “Twenty three years ago, I did, when I worked as a cherry picker.” She sighs. “I understand it’s confusing when you first get here, but I need you to trust me, just a little bit, alright?” 

Levi bites his lip, holds back the snarl this time as he observes her, watches as she rolls her own sleeve, how she pins back the fabric carefully under her fingers and pays attention to fold it properly so it doesn’t crease unevenly. He can’t imagine any nefarious plan that could involve just looking at his arm, he supposes, but something in his gut is still screaming to proceed with caution.

He inhales deeply, and nods, allowing her to look closer.

Hanji traces her thumb over the brand, gingerly, seems to find something interesting in the mark as she looks up at him. 

“You were born south of here, weren’t you? One of the Sina estates, or maybe Rose.” 

He pulls his arm away again, this time gentler as she relinquishes her grasp, rubs the muscle, taut under his skin. Over time, it’s smoothed and healed to an off-colour blemish over his right tricep. He nods. 

“I was sold and brought here when I was six.”

“It’s ok,” she says, extending her own arm. There’s a twinge of curiosity in his gut as she rolls up her sleeve and reveals a similar mark. “I was also sold off from the south. A bit further east than you, I think though.” She traces her thumb along the bottom of her own scar and adds, “You can tell because southern brands tend to curl near the edges. It’s a result of having better ironworkers.”

He hears Keiji groan again from off to the side, and watches the flame of the candle flicker in between them. Watches the way she seems to sway in place, following the fickle to-and-fro pull of the flame like a moth. He turns the flesh of his own arm over, pinching to get a better view at the cross seared into it, and she’s right, the corners flare outwards a little more than he’s used to seeing on others. Something deep in his gut settles slightly, relaxing as he stares back at her, astonished.

“Told you,” she smiles. “It’s closer to the original symbol, though it’s changed enough over the generations that I don’t think many people care much anymore.”

Levi blinks, and looks up at her again. 

“Who are you?” he repeats, eyes narrowing. “The whole truth, this time.”

She shrugs, pushes back a strand of hair from her temple. “I used to be a someone,” she says mysteriously. “A coup and a war change a lot of things, as it would turn out. Now, I’m just a bit of a no one, stuck very far from home.” 

He realizes with a pang the weight of the confession she’s given him. She was born free.

“I’m sorry,” he says without thinking, and she waves him away. 

“I deserved it, trust me,” she jokes. “Wasn’t exactly a kind person. I can see that more clearly now.”

She picks up the candle, standing and stretching her back. “I run the kitchens, so we’ll be working together, and I wanted to make sure that you’d settled in alright.” The sentence doesn’t so much finish as it does taper off lamely, her mouth opening wide in a yawn. “But if you’re alright with it, I think I’d better go to sleep. It’s late.”

“Thank you,” he says. It’s polite, brief, but — he doesn’t think now is the time to be burning bridges, and while he’s not going to instantly drop his guard for her, something deep in his gut recognizes he isn’t at direct risk of harm right now either. Even though there’s a part of him _deeply_ afraid that something horrible may still happen, some tiny animal part of his brain telling him to _lash_ _out_ , to rage and fight tooth and nail, well — he’s learned over the years that his temper will get him into trouble more often than not, if left unchecked.

“It’s no problem,” she says, turning around to leave.

She looks over her shoulder at the door, body twisting one final time to ask him, “What’d you say your name was?”

He pauses, and grunts. 

“Levi.”


	2. Chapter 2

Levi learns very quickly that the tolerance for error is little to none in the manor itself.

He spends the first few days in the kitchen with Hanji mostly, learns enough from her in those few days to understand roughly what the rules and hierarchies were, the ins and outs of his duties. He’s never cooked anything that wasn’t rice or wheat mush before, and she has to teach him everything upwards of how to use a knife.

Gradually though, his responsibilities broaden as he gets better at his jobs, picking up the slack where others don’t have time to. Petra fits him with proper servers clothing and Hanji trains him on how to wait on the members of the household, how to go about his duties without bothering others around the home, teaches him passages the servants are expected to use to keep out of sight. Between Levi’s objectively foul mouth and the sarcastic digs he throws at her, he'd never admit how grateful he is for her patience, or how she doesn’t seem to mind his coarse sense of humour. It’s a relationship that blooms into mutual appreciation remarkably quickly.

A week in, another servant bumps into him from behind while passing by, and Levi’s hair raises, his teeth widening into a bared growl. Hanji slaps him on the wrist, and he flinches in surprise.

“Ow! What the fuck?” he snaps.

“Don’t,” she says simply. “No displays of dominance are allowed between servers.”

She’d explained something about how the family was deeply religious, how all _animal_ behaviour was forbidden, and Levi had grumbled, but it made sense. His lips had thinned into a flat line when she had added that that was why they only brought other betas in front the fields, with the sole exception of an omega who’d presented late in her life. Hanji explains she’d been allowed to stay if she went on suppressants, since she’s a decent worker. 

“It’s an easy way to avoid in-fighting as well,” she had said, and Levi’s nose had wrinkled.

“You think all alphas just want to fuckin’ _fight_ each other all the time?” he asks carefully, and she shrugs. 

“I haven’t seen one in years, so what does what I think really matter?” she asks back, and Levi shrugs. She’s got a certain kind of point, he thinks, but the fact that she just assumes that the nature of a person is dictated by their status is absurd to him. He’s lived his whole life in a close knit community of all presentations, and there’d never been any issues with hierarchy.

He supposes perhaps their origin stories may play into those opinions too, though. Levi’s fairly certain that, if they had all been born free, some of the alphas willing to put aside personal gain for communal good might have had a change of heart along the line. It’s far easier to abuse a status when you have the authority to not be held accountable for it. Zackley, in all his cruelty, was an excellent example of that fact. It might even simply be the fact that as a beta, Hanji has never really had to have close association to those of other statuses if she chose to avoid them. Whatever the reason and the intentions behind it, it leaves a bit of a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

“I suppose,” he mumbles.

The mansion itself is cold and white, neat, dark tiles and smooth walls and impeccably clean, something that never failed to make the dirt on his skin, the perpetual crusts of his fingernails feel out of place. Along the hallways, there were stained glass windows of saints and biblical images. His favourite is probably the image of Abraham outside of the library, clutching a goat by the horns in one hand, and his son Isaac by the hair in the other. The image is set into a deep blue background, the soft off-white and yellow of the goat’s fur and the two men’s robes bright against it.

Hanji tells him the story when he asks about it one day, and when she reaches the end, his brows furrow together in confusion.

“The fuck is the moral of that supposed to be?” he asks gruffly, and her head tilts back in a bark of laughter.

“You know what?” she says, still chuckling. “I was always told it was about placing no thing or person above your god. But as I get older, I feel like I can agree more and more with your exact thoughts on it.”

It’s all very strange to him, how religion demands that it be placed above all other things. He hasn’t truly believed in a god for a very, very long time.

It’s not the only story she tells him, though. Hanji knows most of the bible stories off by heart, knows the old testament like she knows the creases in between her own fingers. She tells him about places Levi knows he’ll never get to see the likeness of, of monsters, of men gone too far down the wrong paths, of kings and babies. She’s highly educated, which makes sense considering her past, and incredibly quick to turn a joke around.

“Did you ever take a mate?” he asks her one day. They’re sitting at the table, peeling potatoes for dinner. He’s only cut himself once. He’s getting better.

The work they do is less physically demanding than what Levi had been doing before, but it’s still backbreaking in a different way, in the constant anxiety of not being caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, in how Levi finds himself tip-toeing each time he has to move past Elias’ office in the main hall. He’s disturbed him once by accident before, and the fresh, pinkish scar on his forearm is a firm reminder not to do so again.

“A long time ago,” Hanji smiles. The corners of it don’t reach past her cheeks, a little sad at the memory. “He’s gone now, though.”

“Oh.” Levi frowns, and coughs in the silence that follows. “Did he live here?” he asks, and Hanji shakes her head. 

“We were married before. He died in the war, or got taken prisoner and sold off like me. To be honest, I don’t know which.”

It occurs briefly to Levi that he doesn’t really know how old she is, seeming to exist entirely outside of his own timeline. She talks about the war and — sure, he knows it _happened,_ but no one he knows talks about it, not much. Things seemed to remain mostly… undisturbed, up here at least, more so than when he’d lived at his first estate. 

He knows roughly his own age, and from what she says, he was born in the winter when she was branded and sold here. If she had a mate before then, a family — god, Levi thinks, she’s probably at least twenty years older than him.

“Sorry,” he grunts, not really knowing what else to offer.

She laughs again, and says, “It’s not your fault. And, to be honest, I was never in love with him.”

That piece of information surprises him.

“Oh?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Then why did you marry him?”

“I had to,” she says simply.

Levi holds back a scoff. “Bullshit.”

There’s another bark of laughter, wild and uncontrolled. It’s something he’s come to respect about her in the last few weeks here, the way she lets herself run unhindered by the worry of social norms or conventions. She’s not _unkind,_ by any means, she’s just… herself. Honest, he thinks. He’s seen her cuss out a chair she tripped over, and repeatedly talk to other inanimate objects.

“A bit, in hindsight.” She sends another peel flying into the small pile between them with a graceful flick of her knife. “I thought I had to, then. My parents arranged for it when I was 18, and he died by the time I got to 22.”

“So why do it if you didn’t want to?” he asks, and she shrugs. “You were free. You had the choice.”

“You and I now have different concepts of obligation than I did back then. At the time, marrying another rich family, and by extension, enlarging my father’s estate, was my only job.” 

Levi snorts, laughs quietly to himself. “So, an easy job then. Just a loveless marriage.”

“Not loveless,” she corrects. “But not.. not romantic either, I think. I did love him though.”

He shrugs. “I don’t see the difference.”

“You don’t have to,” she smiles back, and Levi’s eyebrow rises again. He knows that she sees it, from the way her eye catches him and grins, but she chooses not to elaborate further. “I’ve told Erwin the same thing that you’ve told me, but he’s still caught up in his own world.”

His mind flashes back to the field, the tall alpha, caught somewhere between a boy and a man, the tilt of his head as he’d mumbled _I see no outward problems,_ and he winces. 

Since then, Levi has learned that Erwin is not a cruel person. His voice is always soft, understanding. He treats Levi kindly. Most days, he sits in the library for hours, in an overstuffed chair that lies under the huge stained glass window between the shelves. The room itself is built like a chapel, the arching roof following the curve of the frame as tiny cherub angels fly across the glass. He’s caught him watching Levi as he puts away the books on their respective shelves, dusts the spines and polishes the heavy oak doors. He hasn’t talked to him beyond the odd smile and quiet _hello_ in the halls, though.

“He’s engaged, then,” he muses quietly, and Hanji nods.

“To an alpha from Sina, yes.”

The words catch him a little by surprise. It’s not unheard of for political reasons, but regardless of whether the bond is a mixed or a male alpha-alpha one, it would be entirely fruitless. The lineage would end there, unless a surrogacy or relative were designated to fill the hole. Any other pairing would make more sense, even an alpha-beta bond. At least that would have a chance of conception, in the long run, if it were mixed.

“A double alpha bond?” he asks, curious, and Hanji tenses up. He watches her fidget, and realizes immediately that she’s not telling him everything.

“It’s political.” She says it as though reading his thoughts, yet somehow also not answering his question. The statement does partially confirm Levi’s suspicions, though. “He visits every few months. I think he’s actually scheduled to be here sometime next week.” She pauses, puts down the knife and leans back in her chair, thinking. 

Something about how she’s reacting to the question makes him uneasy. He gets the same sinking, gut feeling that she isn’t telling him the whole truth, but she shakes her head as though dismissing the thought, and Levi knows in that moment that the subject has been gently shut down, for now. 

“Either way, I’m sure you’ll see him sooner rather than later.”

Levi shrugs, and lets it go. It’s best to leave what isn’t his business alone.

* * *

There’s talk of Erwin’s betrothed visiting in the air, though, Levi noticing it more clearly now that Hanji has directly brought it to his attention. He hears Keiji and Erd discussing it one night in the commons.

“He’s not that bad,” Erd frowns, and Keiji’s nose wrinkles in disagreement.

“We might just have different definitions of _bad_ , then,” Keiji mutters. “Mike’s an arrogant _prick_ , and each time he visits we spend hours the day before getting everything ready. Elias is just desperate to marry off his son, before he gets too old. He doesn’t care that it’s a biological dead end.”

Levi catches himself listening attentively, curious.

“Oh come on, as though it makes any difference to you,” Erd says back. His tone is completely unimpressed. “Once they’re married and Erwin is gone, you’ll never have to clean up after another visit again. It’d be the same no matter who he were engaged to.” Erd crosses his arms, and adds, “At least he’s nice to us, mostly.”

The conversation sticks in his head for more than a few days after he hears it, his mind wandering back idly to it from time to time.Again, he supposes it’s none of his business, but, a male alpha bond? It must be purely political, considering he’s heard whispers of how immense Mike’s power is. 

Hanji’s forehead crinkles together, when he asks her about it. She sighs, and lowers her voice.

“The Zacharius family overthrew the previous lords who ruled in that region,” she explains. “That’s what had started the war in the first place. Mike’s not a terrible person; he’s too young to have had anything to do with it, but,” and she swallows, glancing around and leaning in, “his family has more than enough blood on their hands to make up for that.” Levi watches her eye swivel in its socket, the way her brow furrows with displeasure. He imagines, in part, that the family is at least partially responsible for her being here.

He doesn’t press further than that.

Still, he hears whispers from other people, both good and bad, and at this point, he’s mostly realized he’s more indifferent than anything else to the situation. The only reason he’s curious about it at all is because he’s got nothing better to do.  All the complaints about having a visitor seem to vanish into thin air when the visitor himself arrives, though, Levi notices. Erwin becomes less scarce, for one thing, taking long walks through the garden with his fiancé.

Mike is huge; taller than Erwin, and his roughed, light hair falls in strands that go well past his ears. His heavy-lidded eyes watch Levi just as carefully as Levi watches him, completely alert to every movement, every sound around him.

“You’re new,” Mike comments the first time they run into each other, and Levi nods. He can smell the overpowering stench of alpha wafting off of him, and cringes. Mike holds out a hand.

“I’m Mike Zacharius. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Levi freezes, not sure how to react, before tentatively taking the hand and shaking it silently. 

“Levi.” The word sits on his tongue a second too long, and Mike tilts his head reflexively.

“Well,” he says, “It’s good to meet you, Levi.” He doesn’t add anything else, simply dismisses him by turning his attention back to Erwin, talking softly as they continue down the hall. Levi stares back, still bristling at the touch. He watches them round a corner and disappear.

* * *

Things fall into a slow, meaningless rhythm after a while. Levi stops keeping track of the days as they blend together, the cold, thin fingers of winter sinking their claws into the land ever so tranquilly. He watches the trees shed their leaves and wonders how Isabel and Farlan are doing, now that the harvest season has come to an end. Soon, they’ll be moved to individual winter tasks, chopping wood, or, later in the year, melting down snow to drink. 

He misses them, but he’s not lonely per se either. It’s just a change from what he knew before, and one he knows he can’t fix at that, so he tries not to think about it too hard.

He knows now the names of some of the other servants, ten or fifteen people total, each room branching off from a long hallway that opens up into a single common space and a bathroom at the end. The tall, quiet, blonde man with a scar down the left of his face is Moblit, who functions primarily as a sort of butler, but he’ll also help Hanji in the kitchen from time to time. Erd and Keiji work mainly in the stables and gardens, Nanaba and Petra tend to washing the laundry and keeping the place neat. 

And Erwin himself? For all Levi’s attempts to peg him down, the youngest master completely evades him. He sometimes sees him lurking about the house when he isn’t in the library. Elias and his mate, a petite beta woman that Levi assumes is Erwin’s mother, are almost never home, and Levi couldn’t tell you whether it’s for work or pleasure, but the short of it is that it’s mostly just Erwin pondering around the house by himself. Polite, but never fully interacting. 

The only exception to that rule is Hanji. The two of them have an interesting bond that he can’t decipher. Occasionally Levi has seen him outside, atop his riding horse, dogs trailing behind him. Sometimes he brings home game, and she’ll cook it for dinner, Levi watching from the corner of the room as he laughs and chats with her. He supposes a longstanding knowledge of each other has contributed to a sort of mutual respect.

He doesn’t hate Erwin, he thinks to himself. 

It’s an odd sort of realization to come to, after years of working under his family, years of torture for his name. But the way he sits at the beaten old wooden table in the middle of the kitchen, allows Hanji to taste test her newer recipes on him, the quiet tip of his head and the way he knows all of the people he lives with by name. The way he speaks carefully, as though every word has an impact, because he knows they do. Levi doubts that he even knows the extent of the suffering he indirectly inflicts, based on what are seemingly good intentions.

He wants to hate Erwin.

Who he really hates instead, is Mike, which is far more absurd to him. 

The weeks when Mike is visiting are the worst. The household becomes much stiffer, and they’re ordered to wear their best clothes when out of personal spaces, as well as not allowed to wander when they’re done with their tasks for the day. It’s suffocating at best, and Levi _hates_ him, and all his attempts at civility for it. It occurs to him briefly that that might just be the alpha effect, his own stupid biology turning on him, and that only makes him more furious.

Most of these things are brought up while preparing meals. Levi’s noticed that that’s generally the best time to ask Hanji about anything, since she’s too busy to really care what comes out of her mouth, whether it's her giving away some piece of information she shouldn't, or agreeing halfmindedly while Levi bitches about how much he _loathes_ the stupid, cocky way he’ll sit at the table, the way he whistles for Levi to come fill his water each time he empties his glass, the way he comments at some of the female slaves, _especially_ Nanaba, how _pretty_ they are, and how it makes Levi want to lunge and rip out both of Mike’s eyeballs from their stupid, smug sockets.

“— and Erwin never _does_ anything about it. Just sits and reads his _stupid_ books,” he finishes lamely.

“He’s busy,” Moblit replies shortly. “The entire estate is left to him when his parents are gone, and Erwin likes to be prepared. He’s not entitled, for the most part, he wants to learn and do well as the next lord. He’s just —” 

“Misguided,” Hanji says, stirring the pot simmering over the gas flame. “And with the wedding incoming, probably anxious. Doesn’t want anything to go sideways at the last minute.” 

Levi thinks back to Mike, to his imposing stature and overwhelming scent and his _arrogant_ fucking face. “They don’t seem… romantic,” he says finally, settling on the word awkwardly. “How the fuck would things go sideways if he just put the guy in _line_ in his own house?”

“ _Romantic_?” Hanji laughs. “They’re not. Mike is cold and calculating. Erwin is a dusty old man who lives in his books. They’re docile enough that it won’t be a painful marriage, but it’s — it’s not going to be anything more than a means to an end. Probably will involve an affair, on Mike's end,” she admits, tasting the broth and making an expression that reads _not bad._ She drops the spoon back in the pot.

Levi pauses, lips opening with a wet little smack as the realization hits him, and says, “That’s an odd choice of words.” Hanji tenses up a little, like she always does when she's hiding something, Levi has learned, stirs the pot one more time before making her way over to where Moblit stands wordlessly. She picks up a knife and refuses to meet Levi’s eyes as he tilts his head and adds, his voice serious, “Oi. What are the ends, then?”

Moblit thwacks Hanji’s arm with his elbow. “Cut away from your body," he grumbles. "You’ll hurt yourself." 

Hanji laughs, the tension dissipating just as quickly as it had built, clearly relieved. “It’s faster this way, and it’s my kitchen you disheveled old sheepdog.” She playfully bumps him back.

“You should never fucking play poker,” Levi mutters, and she sighs, eyes turned upwards at the ceiling. 

“It’s a _power grab,_ ” she hisses, soft enough that only Levi and Moblit can hear it. “If you must know, it’s his parents that suggested it. Erwin is just listening to them. I don’t think he really cares about that.”

Levi shrugs. “Could have just admitted that from the start,” he snarks, and leans back in his chair.

There’s an hour of daylight left by time he finally leaves, and another two before supper. Hanji shoos him out of the kitchen, insisting he’s only slowing her down with his complaining. The conversation replays in his mind as he walks, the creaking of the hallway echoing ahead of him as he moves towards the library. If he’s fast, he can finish with enough time to sit outside for a bit, enjoy the last rays of sun as they disappear under the horizon. 

He’s already dusted earlier in the day, so he begins searching the rows for stray books or misplaced chairs to move back to the desk at the front. Erwin has a nasty habit of moving a seat around with him from shelf to shelf, stacks of books gradually accumulating on the floor before moving on. 

He finishes cleaning up the piles in the southwest wing of the library and walks north along the shelves to find Erwin sitting in a chair, two separate stacks on either side, circular glasses perched on the end of his nose. One of the large, rounded, church-like windows illuminates him from behind, the light of the dying day spilling through in fragile, dust-ridden streaks. There’s a thick, purple tome in his hands, and he looks up as he hears Levi approach. 

“Ah, sorry!” he says, flustered as his hands shuffle to close it. Levi notices he folds the top of the right corner as he shuts it. “I didn’t think I’d run into anyone.”

“It’s fine.” Levi scowls. He knows he doesn't look particularly happy as he does, but the truth is, he’s mostly thinking about the fact he’ll have to come back later. Erwin seems to misinterpret that as annoyance towards him. 

“No, really,” Erwin says, rushed. “I’m just about done here for the day anyways. Do you need help putting anything away?” He offers the book to Levi, eyes wide and inquisitive, and Levi is a bit surprised. Why would he bother helping?

“You shouldn’t fold the pages like that,” he grunts, accepting it anyways. “You’ll damage it.”

Erwin laughs. He lifts a stack of books off the floor and begins placing them back on the shelf. “I’ll help you.”

They don’t speak as they work, and soon enough, there's only a few books left. Levi is attempting to jam a thin red book between two others, trying to make it fit, when Erwin touches his wrist lightly. “That one doesn’t go there actually,” he says gently, and Levi shakes his head, bristling a little. 

“Where should I put it, then?” he asks, trying not to sound too irritated. 

Erwin points to the sixth shelf off the floor, and Levi grunts, his eyebrows furrowing together. He’s too short to reach it, _obviously,_ and Erwin chuckling quietly in the background again doesn’t help his mood either. 

“I could reach, if you like,” he offers. 

“No need.” Levi grits his teeth, walks away with the stubborn determination to do it himself. He comes back a moment later with the library stepladder, wooden and wobbling dangerously in all its glory, kicks it open, and, with the last shred of his dignity barely intact, climbs up to place the damn book back in its place.

“I’m sorry if it isn’t really convenient to you for me to be in here so much,” Erwin says at his back, and Levi barely turns to acknowledge him. 

“It’s my job,” he hums, hardly paying attention. He steps off and kicks the ladder closed, picking it up. “You don’t need to apologize.” 

“I know,” Erwin says, “but I see you in here every day, and I usually mean to put them away myself, I just,” he mumbles, “I get sidetracked, and tell myself I’ll go back to that book, and then I don’t, and —” 

“Seriously,” Levi insists, eyes narrowed, “don’t apologize.” 

Erwin looks a little sheepishly at the floor. “Could I at least help you put the ladder away?” he asks. Levi pauses. He could do it himself, but considering the height of the storage shelf, and the fact that he doesn't really want to —

He sighs. “Fine, I guess."

The air between them is weirdly electric as Erwin lifts the ladder to place it back on the shelf. Levi watches him as he does, a stray hair crossing Erwin’s face as he shifts in place. Something about the way he moves, the curvature of his spine and the way he laces his hands through the rungs reminds Levi of the elk he sometimes sees flitting around the edges of the woods outside, graceful and heavy all at once. 

“I never see you around as much as the others,” Erwin says finally, putting his glasses in a case and tucking them into his pocket. “I mean, I see you, but I don’t think we’ve spoken much.” 

“What would there be to speak about? I just do my work.” 

Erwin nods back. “I know. You hardly talk with the others either, even though you’ve been here a few months. Have you been able to adjust well?”

It’s a bit strange, the fact he actually seems to have some vested interest in Levi’s wellbeing, he thinks. He’s not exactly been in close contact with many, but most of the free men he’s encountered see their slaves as sub-human, a different class of more wild, intrinsically animalistic beings. The way Erwin interacts with him though feels as though he were talking to another person of the same status, the same hierarchical standing as him.

Perhaps, he considers, the way Mike had treated him when they’d first met had been indicative of that already, in hindsight. It would make sense, that one of them would affect the world views of the other. Whether Mike had influenced Erwin or Erwin had Mike though, Levi could guess pretty clearly, considering how even though Mike had greeted him politely, he still treats him like a wild dog.

“I speak to Hanji.” Even Levi is aware of how defensive it sounds as the words escape his mouth, crossing his arms grumpily. “Don’t get much work with the others.”

The corners of Erwin’s eyes crinkle at that, and he leans back, placing an elbow against the door frame and scratching the back of his neck. “She’s excellent company. I’ve spent a fair amount of time speaking with her myself, over the years.” His gaze shifts out the window, watching the clouds drift by, off-white and puffy. “With the upcoming wedding, well — her insight is more valuable to me now than ever.”

“I imagine,” Levi says. He pauses, glances away, already knowing the thought alone may be overstepping. 

He says it anyways. “You don’t seem too excited about it.”

There’s a moment where Erwin’s face remains blank, dissonant, and Levi flinches, expecting some kind of retaliation for it. But the moment passes quickly enough, and Erwin sighs.

“It’s that obvious, is it?” He asks the question as though he isn’t expecting an answer. “I suppose not, you’re right. I’m not particularly keen.”

There’s another tense second where Levi doesn’t really know what to add, his foot tapping loudly against the wooden planks of the floor. He allocates his gaze to the shelves, afraid to meet Erwin’s eyes, and touches the cross on his shoulder half-mindedly, not sure if the statement was meant as a dismissal.

"He's not a bad man, I just, —" Erwin sighs again, breaks the sentence in half gingerly with the tiny huff of air. “— I don't know. We all have different obligations, I suppose.”

Something about the second half of his statement makes Levi’s stomach churn bitterly, makes him dial back to his conversation with Hanji again about being _busy_ , about what she said about Erwin being trapped in his own world. As though Erwin knew anything about true obligations. 

"Sure," he says, glancing away to avoid glaring.  He can see though that he hasn’t exactly masked the offence perfectly though, because now it’s Erwin’s turn to flinch at his reaction. 

“I’m.. sorry. That was insensitive. I hadn’t meant it like that.” 

Levi looks him up and down, his silk clothing, the fine polish of his shoes, the distinct lack of callouses or scarring on Erwin’s body. Something inside of him snaps ever so quietly. 

“I’m obligated to serve you, my _lord_ ,” he says, and the last word almost comes out as a mocking hiss. “But I’m not obligated to like you for it. If it's sympathy you want, talk to someone else.” 

Erwin’s face darkens as he speaks to him, and Levi waits for a repercussion, some kind of reaction from the alpha, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he quietly looks away, presses his lips together and exhales.

Levi _really_ wants to hate Erwin Smith. Wants to want to kill him, wants a reason to lash out and tackle the other alpha into the shelves, beat his stupid handsome face until its features mush together the same way he’s seen Zackley beat his friends to near death. He wants Erwin to react like Levi is an actual threat at the very least, to give off some warning growl and try to force him back into place. The fact he doesn’t even bother with that is more infuriating than anything else, as though Levi is a single wasp buzzing around his head, a threat hardly worth considering.

“As you wish.”

He bites his tongue and watches as Erwin turns and leaves instead. 

With a huff, Levi storms back down the rows of shelves to see if there’s anything more that the giant blonde fucking sasquatch had left behind on the floor.

* * *

In hindsight, Levi will realize his temper that afternoon was probably hormonal.

In the present moment, it’s when he wakes up covered in sweat, stinking to the high heavens, that he realizes he’s exactly on time for his cycle, practically 24 weeks to the day, having completely forgotten to track it since being moved.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he breathes, insides cramping painfully, his stomach twisting itself into what feels like thousands of tiny little knots, and drags himself out of bed, touches his neck just to be certain. Sure enough, both glands are swollen, spewing a thick, insufferably strong musk into the air. 

He groans. Looks at the clock on the wall — it’s only 10PM. If he’s lucky, someone who can help him will still be awake. Fuck.

Hanji is at the door before he’s even able to take two steps towards the common rooms, his hand still trembling over the knob as she grabs him and shoves him back inside, slamming the door closed behind her. She shakes Keiji awake. 

“Out. Go sleep in my room.” she orders, and Levi watches as he takes one inhale, gags, and actually _listens_ to the order. If both betas could smell it that clearly —

“You fucking _idiot_ ,” Hanji says, and marches him back towards his bed. “I could smell you from my goddamn room. You should have _told_ me that you weren't a beta.”

Levi snarls, writhes against her hand and yanks himself free. “I haven’t told _anyone_ since I first presented,” he growls. His skin is slicked with sweat, lungs heaving against his ribs as he pants. “Never let Zackley onto it either. Took care of it before he could find out. Do you have any idea how much _shit_ I would have caught?”

He feels his legs give out, and this time lets her walk him back setting him gently against the sheets, feels himself almost snap at her again as she sighs and shakes her head. “I need to go move Nanaba upstairs before she starts going fuck-hungry too now. You couldn’t have at least warned me you were _due?”_

“Forgot,” he mutters, and rolls his eyes. 

She sighs, the frustrated look giving way for a fraction of a second to something Levi can recognize is more sympathetic, buries her head in her hands and mutters something inaudible.

“Stay here,” she orders. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll see if I can find something that can help.”  Levi is certain he hears her hiss the words _stubborn idiot alphas_ as the door crashes closed behind her again.

He fucking hates his ruts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha ha you thought levi was an omega. honestly ive pretty much hanzel and gretled the fuck out of this but congrats if you got it early
> 
> didn't beta this so if you find an error lmk in the comments


	3. Chapter 3

The sick, twisting, _neediness_ in his gut keeps him awake until she gets back.

He groans loudly, certain that every person in their stupid, shitty basement corridor can hear him whining like a dying animal, his dick twitching insufferably in his pants.

Hanji returns no more than twenty minutes later, holding a bottle of pills in her hand.

“You’re incredibly fucking lucky Nanaba had the sense to go upstairs when the scent hit her,’ Hanji says. She’s pissed, but surprisingly not at Levi it seems, hands wringing nervously around the bottle. He’s oddly touched that she actually seems to care. “I brought you this.”

The label is unreadable, smeared by time, and he opens it up to smell the pills inside. 

“ _Omega_ suppressants?” he asks, unimpressed. Hanji throws her hands in the air.

“It’s the best I can do, alright?” she hisses. Her eye flashes dangerously, as though challenging him to say something in response, and some tiny, lizard part of his brain is convinced for just a fraction of a second that she actually very well might actually murder him if he does. It would technically solve the problem if she did.

He tosses the bottle aside. “They don’t work.”

“How would you know?’ she demands, and Levi rolls his eyes.

“You think I haven’t already tried that?” he asks sarcastically. “Let me spell this out for you; you’re asking me, an _alpha_ in _rut_ , to take omega suppressants, which, I might remind you,” and he pauses for dramatic effect, “are _omega hormonal balancers_. Which, is short form for “omega hormones,” when you boil it down.”

“They don’t —“ She opens her mouth to answer, and closes it hardly a moment later, seeming to understand. Levi rolls his eyes, yet again. “… _Oh_. They make it worse, don’t they?”

“Bingo, cyclops.”

They sit in a tense silence, the only noise in the room Levi’s ragged breathing as he feels all 7 meters of his intestines coiling inside him like a parasitic worm. Hanji shoves the bottle somewhere deep in her pockets and leans forwards, her chin resting over her hands. 

“What do you want me to do?” she asks. 

He traces a finger over the sheets, shaky, and says, “You need to give me a week to sweat it out, or an alternative.”

“There is absolutely no way Zackley gave you a full week off of picking,” Hanji frowns. Levi feels his lungs choke out a completely humourless laugh.

“I had alternatives.” He watches as Hanji flushes right down to her collarbones as the sentence settles in.

It hadn’t been like he’d _liked_ the alternatives, in complete honesty. He remembers when he was 14, had first had to wake up Farlan in the middle of the night, the gnawing, horrible feeling in his gut as he felt the entire world crush down around him and had forced himself to choke out the words, “ _I’m — I think I’m in_ rut.” He can pinpoint it as being one of the most singularity humiliating moments of his entire life.

It was common understanding that alphas were more targeted by the supervisors, more closely monitored, more heavily reprimanded for each infraction. Levi, who had been small his whole life, could not afford to have his status found out at the risk of being beaten to death.

Farlan, hardly a year older than Levi at the time, had scooped him up in his arms and told him to listen, _very_ closely, as to what was going to happen next.

Hanji stares back at him blankly, and scratches her chin, her forehead creasing, concerned. “I don’t know if we have any — _alternatives_ — here,” she says, her face reddening again at the word.

He flops back against the pillows, still shaky, laughing. “Then I’m going to just have to wait it out the hard way.”

“There’s got to be —“

“Trust me.” Levi examines his fingernails dryly. “There isn’t. If there were, I would know. You need to get me a week off, or another option.”

“I can’t get you a full week off without a _damn_ good explanation, Levi,” Hanji says, a hint of exasperation edging its way into her voice, and he looks up at the ceiling, seeing rapidly where the conversation was going. Neither of them wants to address the unspoken words, hanging thicker than the musk in the air.

“Then find another option,” he spits, and she sighs.

“I’m going to have to tell him.”

His teeth bare at the words, absolutely disgusted at the prospect. Levi doesn't leave a second, not a single moment of hesitation before spitting, “ _Fuck_ no.” The words are hardly a snarl, coarse and feral. There’s absolutely no way in hell that Erwin Smith _ever_ gets to know what Levi’s status actually is, that he would willingly hand the man who could make his life hell the instructions to do so.

He feels a bit like he wants to peel his skin off, wants to throw up as he feels her eye watching him, sweat trickling down the bottom of his arms and dripping off his elbows. Neither of them moves.

“Tell him I’m an omega instead,” Levi exhales finally, and Hanji freezes.

It’s smarter. Erwin is engaged, and while Levi sees how Erwin’s shit-for-brains fiancee treats Nanaba, Erwin himself leaves her well enough alone. He imagines, so long as he can go the six months until the wedding without letting Mike find out, it would be better that way. This way, Erwin doesn't see him as a challenge to his authority, doesn't have to worry about Levi acting up and trying to butt heads. In retrospect, he wonders if that's exactly why the family has avoided bringing in other alphas in the past. And at the very least, there’s no risk of being resold or culled if and when Elias finds out about the mistake.

There’s a long, long pause. Hanji tilts her head.

“You understand that the problems being an omega brings are not… easier, right?”

“Don’t care,” Levi grunts. Strategically, he knows that it’s better to be an omega right now than an alpha. He knows Hanji knows it too.

And yet he also — something deep in his gut is perversely aware of how right she still is. Levi has never really had to consider, (or, perhaps he’s never wanted to,) the particular plights and difficulties that an omega slave would face compared to an alpha. He’s managed to keep his ruts secret for, what, probably a decade now? If he had been an omega, no amount of rushed, muffled sex would turn his biology back off again, not until the hormones in his body had naturally fluctuated back to normal. He’s heard of omegas being forced to work while in heat, and he can hardly imagine the stress that that must put on their bodies.

She shrugs. “Fine. Your funeral.”

She turns on her heel and leaves him sweating in the sheets, and Levi stuffs his face into his pillow.

* * *

By time morning rolls around, Levi has absolutely no idea how many times he’s had to jerk himself off to avoid letting out a blood-curdling scream of frustration.

He hadn't _liked_ having to fuck his way out of rut before, but this is the first time he's actually had to let himself work through the whole damn thing by himself. It had definitely been easier than this, that was for sure. 

When Hanji comes back in the evening after work, he's absolutely disgusting, and he knows the whole room probably smells like an unpleasant mix of sweat and sex and hormones to her. Surprisingly though, she says nothing about it, only asking how he's doing, checking his temperature and giving him his rations for the day. Levi devours them as though he's never seen food before. 

The week passes in a blurred mess, his body drifting in and out of consciousness the whole time. It feels as though he's being tossed to and fro in a lifeboat, nails scrabbling at the side of his bed, trying to avoid touching himself again. He wants to wash himself. He wants water. But he's too afraid to step out of his room and get either, too afraid to do so at least until the fourth night when the scent starts to recede.

He waits a good half hour after he can't hear anyone else in the commons before he makes his way to the bathroom, careful not to wake anyone. Left his bottle of shampoo in his room, so he grabs one of the bars of soap off the sink and shrugs off his pants. The room offers no privacy, no curtain or walls, but the water that comes out of the tap is hot and clear and clean, and he's grateful for it. He dunks his head under it for a moment, lets the water soak into his hair and trickle down his neck as he pulls back and watches the basin on the floor fill, sitting on one of the wooden stools.

And oh — _god,_ he'd forgotten the feeling of hot water tracing lines down and across his back, dripping from the sponge, the feeling of warmth in his body. The ache of his tired spine as he stretches it out and scratched at his shoulders, the pain in his thighs from curling his legs together for days. The feverish, rotting smell, washing gradually from him. It felt like he was peeling off an old skin and shedding it, leaving it behind him in a trail of filth that trickles down the drain. He lathers some of the soap in his hands, teasing it gently through the matted knots in his hair, scrapes the grime from under his nails and between the creasing of his fingers.

"Finally coming out of it?" a voice asks from behind him.

His body twists around, hands instinctively falling protectively over his crotch. It takes him a second to register the face, recognize that it's just Nanaba standing in the doorframe. She walks towards him, hands folded over her chest.

"I was starting to worry I'd be stuck covering your shift the whole week," she jokes, hardly a whisper over the hissing of the tap. She stands just outside where the tiny flecks of water splash from the basin, just far enough that if Levi reached out he could probably reach her, brush his fingers over the hem of her shirt.

Levi blinks, mouth twisting into a little frown as he shifts uncomfortably in place in his seat. "What are you doing here?"

"Offering you a fast lane," she says simply. "If you want it."

Time seems to slow to a halt in the dingy, off-yellow light of the bathroom as Levi's brain skitters to a full stop.

If he's being perfectly honest, in the state he's in, he's actually not certain he wants to accept at this point. With how quickly his fever had broken, he's certain that by tomorrow or the day after, he'll be back to his regular self, with or without a helping hand to move him along. Levi doesn't particularly like fucking strangers, has done so only a few times in his life to relieve an omega of an especially painful heat, and that was always nothing less than a functional favor. Any relationship to and concerning sex that he has has typically only followed his biological needs, not his desires. And, in the least rude sense, he just isn't really attracted to her.

But, — and the painful twitch in his dick when she'd spoken has already indicated this to be true, — something deep in his stomach twists and coils at the thought of another person touching him, how she'd feel as she tightened around him, — and right now, there's definitely at least a _partial_ desire to press her against the wall and take what he wants.

Instead of saying any of that, he scowls.

"You couldn't have made that offer four days ago?" 

She laughs, dry and humorless. "Better late than never."

It takes every fiber of self-restraint in Levi's body to look away from her, turn himself away and say, "I'm alright, thank you." He knows she's offering out of kindness, that she has almost nothing to gain or lose from the situation, but he still feels like he'd be taking advantage of her were he to follow through.

She blinks once, twice, seemingly not having expected that. A beat passes in which neither of them speaks, and she shrugs.

"Suit yourself," she says. "You can find me next time too, if you like." She seems to understand there's no spite or pride clouding his answer.

"Thank you," he says quietly, listening to her footfalls on the tiles as she leaves. 

* * *

It’s a full week after his rut before Erwin tries to speak to him again.

Levi expects punishment for lashing out. But the other alpha does nothing, and says nothing. They cross paths in the hallway, but Erwin only bows his head and walks past him silently.

To his complete surprise in fact, he wakes up the day after the end of his faux-heat finishes to see he’s been given two full days off. He speaks to no one at breakfasts, does his tasks in silence, and goes back downstairs to the servants quarters. Spends the rest of the nights scrubbing the dirt out of his clothing, cleans the communal bathroom when he’s done, and then sweeps and bleaches every other surface he can find.

He finally slinks his way upstairs, avoids anyone he crosses along the way that he can, glides quietly past the late-night kitchen staff cleaning up. Hanji watches him leave, concerned, but doesn’t stop him as he creeps past and into the courtyard. The metal railing of the bench is cold under his skin where he leans back, limbs folded cross-legged on the seat. The stars wink at him from across the sky, and he watches them idly float by.

“Do you mind if I join you?” a voice says, and he turns. 

Levi raises an eyebrow wordlessly, and lets out a long breath of air. He nods, and Erwin seats himself on the other side of the bench, the empty space between them painfully obvious. Erwin doesn’t say anything at first, only sits and watches the sky as well.

“I’m sorry if I upset you the other day." The words are unexpected when they finally come, and Levi shakes his head.

“You can’t apologize your guilt away to me, old man,” Levi answers. His tone is flat, not totally unforgiving, but cautious.

Erwin nods carefully, brow furrowing slightly, and clears his throat. “Right.” There’s another moment of silence between them, and Erwin adds, “You do know that I’m only twenty seven.”

“Older than me.” Levi repeats. A silence follows, and then, belatedly, Erwin chuckles quietly to himself, his expression relaxing again.

“I suppose. You’re quite interesting, Levi.” 

“And you’re apparently a bit too fond of harassing me,” Levi speaks back, coolly. 

Erwin laughs again though, as though he isn’t really surprised by the answer. “Thanks.”

There’s another pause, and Levi doesn’t know what else to say. He’s still not entirely sure how to address the elephant in the room. From his perspective, his temper hadn't been entirely unjustified, and Erwin doesn't seem to disagree, but some part of him still wants to bring it up anyways.

Not that it would necessarily give him a better understanding though, even if he did. Processing Erwin's reactions, his behavior, has always been difficult in the first place, and perhaps, he considers, he should just stop trying. The way Erwin fits into his own life feels less like an authentic reflection of his personality, and more like he's been forced to take on a role that wasn't made for him, that being the role of all-powerful alpha heir to a wealthy lord. He lacks the dominance that both alphas and slave masters seemed to often posses in overconfident abundance, and yet maintains his authority through willful compassion instead. Levi doesn't know what to do with that, simply because it's impossible to predict the behavior of a person who defies basic expectations.

“How’s the wedding planning coming?” he blurts out, finally.

Erwin pauses, cocks his head slightly.

“It’s happening. Sort of.” The grey-blue of his eyes looks almost white in the dim lights, stars freckled across their reflection, Levi notices. “I’m reading more about the jurisdiction that Mike works with. I’m hoping we can better both our territories after we’re wed.” He turns the ring around his fourth finger anxiously. “He mostly runs peasant-owned farmlands, although there’s some royal territory he protects as well.”

“Charming,” Levi says, bored. He doesn't like Mike, hardly even feels like _Erwin_ likes Mike at this point. Why give a shit about the land he governs? “You waste a lot of time trying to learn about things that don’t matter much.”

“I actually _like_ to read. Don’t you ever stop and nose through all the books you put away?” he jokes, but Levi doesn’t laugh back.

“Don't know how."

Erwin doesn’t answer, but his mouth tightens slightly. There’s another second where Levi turns to watch him, carefully eyeing the subtle flare of his nose as he breathes in. He's... _uncomfortable_ , actually, Levi realizes. Why is he uncomfortable with that? He should know the legislation around slaves forbids teaching them to read.

“I'm just... I'm better at other things,” he says finally, and Erwin nods again. “I’m good with my hands,” he offers. “Good at orienting myself, and building things. Very good with a knife, too,” he adds mischievously, and it's only a partial lie at this point. He's not yet cut himself in the kitchen this week.

“Should I be worried?” Erwin asks, and he finally gets a smile out of Levi.

_“Yes.”_

“I’m sure.” He doesn’t sound worried at all. "I could teach you to read, if you like."

"You'll get in shit," Levi grunts. "Your dad will kill you."

Levi's also acutely aware of what kind of trust that offer entails. He chooses not to address it.

“My father would never kill me,” Erwin replies, without thinking about it too hard. “He believes in purity, and things being _right_ in the world, that each and every one has their place, their purpose. To kill would be upsetting the will of God."

"Right. Will of God." Levi repeats numbly. He can't tell if this is still a joke. "That omegas serve their alpha, a slave to serve their master, man to serve his God. That there's a natural order to things." He recalls the stories Hanji has told him, thinks pointedly about how Isaac had probably felt on the offering stone. Thinks harder about how he'd probably felt after being cut free. That Erwin is more convinced that his dad wouldn't kill him due to God's will, and not due to the fact that Erwin is someone he supposedly loves.

"I don't agree with him," Erwin says, and it surprises Levi again. "Biology, hierarchy, status, they determine nothing more than luck. The natural order is a lack of order, a lack of reason or logic. Naturalness is simply to be as you are."

"Sounds like he was obsessed with making you turn out to his vision," Levi comments. "Doesn't seem to have worked well, did it?"

Erwin laughs, a deep, rich noise that echoes in his chest. The question is hardly even rhetorical, at this point.

“When my little sister and I were growing up, he got us scent-checked every _month_ after we turned 13, to be sure we wouldn’t randomly go into a heat or a rut,” he says. There’s a bit of mirth in his eyes as he does. “I guess he didn’t want one of his little goblins rubbing up on the furniture. He had a plan for both of us, a different marriage to fit us into that would align with our secondary genders the moment we presented.”

He didn't know Erwin even had a sister. Levi doesn’t say anything because he’s really not sure if this is a joke anymore. It sounds more like Erwin is almost confessing something, and he doesn’t want to interrupt him.

Erwin sighs, the laugh dying on his lips. “Everything changes with this marriage.” He's — _bitter_ , Levi realizes.

Levi looks at him. “But you have a choice the rest of us don’t get.”

Erwin’s face contorts slightly. “I...” He stares downwards, and then looks back at the sky. “It’s complicated. It’s about family, mostly. Expectations to follow.”

“Right."

In some way, he understands where Erwin sees this from. In another, it makes his blood boil to watch him throw away his options out of a forced devotion to _family._ Family is impermanent and undecidable, in his experience. Levi hadn't _hated_ his, but he also hadn't had much time with it either. Those who had truly shaped him, _raised_ him, were those that Levi had chosen himself. He doesn't understand why anyone would hold an alliance tethered only by blood. 

"You remind me of the window by the library," he says, and Erwin seems to take a moment to understand. A little frown creases his lips downwards, but he doesn't comment.

"Of the goat," Levi adds, frowning mockingly right back at him.

"I can understand why," Erwin replies cryptically, standing shakily. He's clearly exhausted as he does, arms stretched over his head as he cracks his spine into place and yawns.

"Thank you for letting me apologize properly, Levi," he says.

Levi's nose crinkles. "Didn't let you do _shit,"_ he bristles, walls jolting back into place as he recognizes the tenderness in Erwin's voice now, and looks away. He thinks quietly about how — how Erwin _thinks_ he's an omega now, and the thought clarifies suddenly, explains why he's acting so nice. He slides further away from him, all the way to the edge of the bench.

Erwin nods, shoves his hands deep into his pockets and looks down. He seems embarrassed. "I know."

"Why did you give me two extra days?"

Erwin looks back over his shoulder awkwardly, as though trying to avoid meeting Levi's eyes. His toe taps against the ground, rhythm uneven as he searches for the right words before opening his mouth.

"Heats aren't easy to go through. I wanted to be sure you got enough rest." He shrugs, turns away and gazes up at the stars again. "You did take them both off, right?"

Levi shrugs, and that's apparently a good enough answer to warrant a smile.

"Good," Erwin says, and exhales gently, a delicate puff of air that collects into a tiny cloud that drifts up into the night. The evenings are getting colder again, Levi notices dully.

"Goodnight, Levi," Erwin says, softly, and disappears into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof ouch im in university residence again and i forgot how hard it is to get shit done with people making noise and being... people.  
> (also, I've had to change residences since one of my RAs decided to literally fucking single me out and bully me because..? long story short I think he's the hyper jealous type and his girlfriend was being friendly to me, so here we are, which is just generally a jackass move. I've taken all the formal steps in reporting the incidents and housing says they'll do something about it, but like fuck if it hasn't been exhausting. it's especially exhausting because this dude is like, a full year younger than me, and yes maybe if I were a first year i could understand trying to intimidate me under the assumption that I wouldn't be able to do anything, but as it stands it just comes off as so... juvenile, in addition to self-damaging, since ive literally just kept reporting things as they happen.)
> 
> the point is it's been a whole hell of a time, in addition to regular coursework things. here's some unapologetically extremely gay men with a lot of tension between them to ease the pain. it's a lot of building information this chapter though tbh.  
> also i forgot that i like just never explained the title; romans 14:8 and numbers 14:8 are two VERY different passages that both contrast this story concept well, hence that. enjoy the tidbit lol.

Time flows like molasses through a narrow-nosed bottle, or so it feels to Levi at least.

Four months rolls gently into five by time the note arrives. Hanji reads it to them all in the kitchen one night. One of the field workers has passed away, an older alpha man named James. His nose wrinkles at the words.

They’re given a few hours off to bury the body. Hanji performs the funeral rites, with a few of the other field workers that Levi presumes had also known him present. He hadn’t been a particularly nice person, if Levi was honest. He knows he’s not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but that’s never stopped any of the hushed whispers that come up every time someone dies from doing so anyways.That being said, he’d looked after his own. He’d been one of the few who’d known Levi’s true status, a freak discovery that he’d kept to himself. Levi had respected that.

Erwin watches the funeral from afar, wordlessly. When he and the six other manor staff shuffle back inside, his hand catches Levi’s shoulder. 

“Did you know him?” he asks. His expression is blank, unreadable. Levi shrugs.

“I guess I used to. Not well.”

Erwin’s mouth is nothing more than a thin line, lips pressed firmly together. “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t need to ask to know that Erwin is referring to the state of the corpse. There had been no attempt to cover up the bruising on the dead man’s limbs, his head caved in slightly from the impact of — well, _something,_ — to the side of it. Levi knows he had been less than Hanji’s age. Of course it hadn’t been natural.

“Thank you,” Levi says, the words chosen carefully. The way Erwin’s eyes meet his feels as though he’s trying to look into Levi’s brain, and he breaks the contact.

“My father says he’ll reprimand Zackley,” Erwin adds, and Levi rolls his eyes.

“For what?” Levi grunts. His eyes flit back to meet Erwin’s, flaring dangerously. He knows he’s become too comfortable, to directly challenge Erwin like this, but the fact of the matter is that if Erwin were the type to be looking for a reason to punish Levi, he would have done so long ago. “Damaging his property?”

Erwin flinches at the question, absolutely dripping with sarcasm. A breath whooshes out of him in a tiny, quiet sigh.

“Probably.”

There’s a moment where neither of them speaks, and then, almost without thinking about it, Levi laughs.

"At least you're honest." His arms fold across his chest, waiting for the other man to do something, watches as Erwin glances away and gives a quick, sad little shake of his head, as though trying to communicate something he can’t openly explain.

“I have to go,” Erwin says, breaking the silence first. “Things to get done. Paperwork.” He shuffles his feet, and adds. ” I hope that your friend finds rest.”

Levi grunts and feels Erwin’s hand drift from his shoulder, watches the larger man disappear through the door. The place where it had been resting leaves a warm imprint on his skin, and he finds himself shrugging as though in an attempt to shake it off.

* * *

When Elias comes home, it’s usually because Mike is visiting as well. But sometimes, Mike will be there even when the head of the house isn’t around, and those tend to be the worst visits, Levi has noticed.

He comes by maybe once or twice a month, never typically longer than a few days at a time. Like all the staff eventually do, Levi has learned how to dance around him, using the servant’s passages to avoid direct confrontation, but even then there can still be the odd bump-in. The one solstice he finds is that Mike never comes to the library. He’ll walk to the door, stand and call out for Erwin sometimes if he’s looking for him, but he never actually sets foot inside. 

When he’s done his work, sometimes he’ll hole up in a corner, in one of the armchairs on the second floor where he knows no one will ever find him, and stare at the books. Even if he can’t read them, there are pictures drawn in the margins, and some strewn in the text. Most are seemingly completely unrelated to the books themselves, or, if they are related at least, Levi can’t decipher a coherent story from the images alone.

The library is also where most of the stained glass windows in the house can be found too, as it turns out. There are larger pieces along the main hallways and at the top of the stairs in the entrance, of course, but smaller, less overtly noticeable windows creep up between the bookcases. Months and months of staring at them each time he dusts the shelves, and listening to Hanji’s tales as he works in the kitchen with her, and he feels as though he could confidently identify most of the stories, their bodies frozen in place. 

Erwin, of course, finds him one afternoon, resting under the entwined image of Michal and David. Levi must have fallen asleep, because he opens his eyes to a hand gently shaking him awake, the other alpha crouched in front of him.

“Are you alright?” Erwin asks, his eyes seemingly surprised. Levi rubs his face and looks down at his crossed legs, book still open in his lap.

“‘M fine,” he murmurs, closing it carefully. He stretches, back cracking, and rises slowly to place it back on the shelf. Erwin watches him move, still squatted down, which is when Levi catches the smile twitching at Erwin’s lips. He frowns.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Erwin replies, shrugging, but the smile lingers. He cocks his head to the side, as though thinking carefully, and rises to stand next to Levi, peering at the shelf to read the title he’d put away. “I mean, I’d just thought you said before that you didn’t know how to read.”

“I don’t,” Levi deadpans.

“Then what were you doing with a book?”

Levi sighs, knowing exactly how the conversation was going to go from here. He shakes his head, not wanting to admit that he’d been staring at what had seemed to be a drawing of a knight fighting a very large snail when he had dozed off.

“Do you always need to be so nosy?”

Erwin laughs, and something in Levi’s chest stirs at the noise. It’s begun to feel more familiar than Levi can be entirely sure he’s comfortable with, to be honest, but that doesn’t stop him from fixing Erwin with a sour expression and pouting again. Regardless of how much the man has grown on him recently, he refuses to let Erwin be aware of it.

“The offer to teach you still stands, you know,” Erwin says quietly. His eyes crease at the corners, but the smile is met by complete blankness from Levi.

“I would be culled if anyone found out.” 

Slaves who knew how to read were dangerous, even Levi knew that. There was a reason that the crown actively forbade it, the same reason that it enforced most of the restrictive laws it did around slaves and freed serfs; to avoid another uprising like the one that took place a few years before Levi had been born. Literacy in particular meant gaining the capacity for organization.

“Then I’ll make sure that no one finds out,” Erwin says, and —

Once again, Levi finds himself captivated by Erwin’s eyes, soft blue, like polished ice. 

He parts his lips, runs his tongue over them carefully. 

“You wouldn’t have a say in it if they did,” he says, breaking the gaze. “Hanji is one thing. She wasn’t born into this, so it makes sense. But if anyone found out about me, they’d kill me, and possibly her as well under the assumption she’d taught me. They might torture the others, to find out if any of them could.” He swallows. “The military police allow for no mercy. Even your father wouldn’t be able to change their minds.”

“I’ll make sure,” Erwin repeats. “It’s a risk to my status as well, if it’s any consolation,” he adds.

Levi rolls his eyes. “It’s —”

“— not the same thing, not at all.” Erwin nods, and Levi’s eyebrow quirks upwards. “I know.”

There’s sincerity to it all, and he can’t understand exactly what Erwin is trying to play at. Levi folds his arms, takes a few paces back and forth before looking back up at him.

“Dumb fucking sasquatch,” he grumbles, and Erwin smiles. 

“Of course.”

Levi shakes his head and frowns again. “Why are you so hellbent on me learning?” he asks, careful. 

“I just — I don’t. But I want you to know that you have the choice.” Erwin explains. His shoulders dip slightly, an uncertain shrug, rubbing his arm somewhat reflexively. Levi continues staring at him as he shifts in place.

“And,” he adds, his weight sliding from one foot to the other, “I want you to know that you’re able to trust me.”

Levi watches him for a moment, standing a few feet away from him. The difference in their stature, the well-kept hair and healthy glow of Erwin’s skin reminds him of all their differences, of how stark the contrast in their lives truly is. But the way Erwin glances off to the side tells a different story, tells Levi that he truly does not seem to see them as different. His judgement and understanding of Levi’s life and the philosophy that it’s made him develop are flawed, but the intentions behind his actions are seemingly pure. It’s a naivety that Levi finds — well, simply put, out of place, for such an otherwise well-educated and deeply thoughtful person.

He sighs, pulls a different book off the shelf and sits down on the floor again, his legs folding beneath him.

“Fine,” he says. “Then teach me.”

Erwin’s face freezes entirely, and then splits into the biggest, dumbest smile that Levi has ever seen.

“As you wish,” he says, a quiet glow to his tone, and drops down to sit next to Levi on the floor.

* * *

At first, they meet relatively infrequently, a few new letters or sounds added every week or so. But as the days get shorter, and the breath of wind turns from fresh, new snow to dark, freezing winter, Levi finds himself more and more drawn to that corner of the house whenever he finds himself with extra time, hanging his apron on the wall the second that meal preparations are done, and returning silently to do the dishes later in the night. If Hanji notices, she says nothing beyond the odd, curious glance when he leaves. 

There are, as it turns out, as many stories as there are informational accounts of science and history, information that up until now had been removed from Levi’s grasp. Erwin explains to him how sometimes the two end up entwined, and that only fascinates him more.

More interestingly though, while Levi polishes the floors or cleans the shelves, Erwin has taken to reading aloud. It’s barely audible, quiet enough that anyone who were to walk past the door outside wouldn’t hear it, but the words are there nonetheless. Levi finds himself listening attentively as he recites the history of the war, of the crown and its successors, of the families of appointed nobles and their respective territories, divided and protected by the lords under them. Erwin's voice is usually hoarse by the end of the day from it. The Zacharius family controls Orvud, the territory on which the Smith property lies, alongside three other lords. In total, twelve noble families swear fealty to the crown, with the edges of the four largest controlling most of the country’s borders. 

It’s information that makes a lot of sense. Based on what Hanji had previously told him, he knows that Elias’s motivations are likely to seize that power, and gain control over not only his own territory, but all of Orvud. And in return, Mike and his family would become the partial heirs to Elias’s fortune, once he passed and his possessions were inherited by his eldest son. All in all, it was a win-win for the two families.

The words that Hanji had used months before bounce around his brain anew; not a painful marriage, but nothing more than a means to an end.

There is one other thing that sticks out at Levi now, which is that even though outright civil war had only broken out about thirty or so years ago, there are mentions of tensions as far back as fifty or sixty years in the books. However, most of the “tensions” that were cited were not actually resolved, or in some cases, even _addressed_ by the war. That, coupled with the fact that the book mentioned nothing about the Zacharius family, even though what Hanji had said was that their actions had directly contributed to its start. It almost seemed as though the author had intentionally been searching for other things to blame the conflict on.

He doesn’t mention it to Erwin. But it bothers him nonetheless, up until the point where Erwin mentions in passing that that account had been recorded and published by one of Mike’s uncles.

On the other hand, when Levi actually sits down and puts his mind to it, he moves from simple letter recognition to full sentences surprisingly quickly. Erwin seems quite frankly astonished at how little time it takes Levi to pick it up, able to stumble his way through a full page without stopping for help by the fourth or fifth week. 

“I’m a fast learner,” Levi had replied, though there’s a little twitch of satisfaction in his gut at the words, his lips curling up. He’s not usually one to fall victim to praise, but — something about the way Erwin says it makes a part of him feel entirely too smug.

He finds himself more and more able to simply exist in contented silence with the alpha, his once-cautious demeanour ebbing away into quiet affection. The interactions leave him at a loss more often than not; it’s not that Levi doesn’t _like_ them, it’s just — confusing, to put it simply. It’s a very odd line to walk, is probably the best way he can summarize it he thinks. He takes a particularly thick volume off the top of the stack of books that Erwin has set on the floor. The fact that he can find himself here at all, standing, reshelving books with Erwin lying sideways at his feet, chin resting on his palm, is a situation he would never have previously expected.

Levi flips over the tome in his hands and mouths out the title to himself. It's plain, old and clearly outdated, the word _Dominance_ written in fine gold lettering at the top. Underneath, there's a subtitle that says _How to Better Lead Those You Command_. It takes him a few seconds to figure out the whole thing, but he's hardly able to bite back his laughter at the ridiculousness of it when he does, carding his finger through the pages. 

"I can’t believe you actually read this shit." he says, without thinking.

When he looks up, he sees Erwin is flushed a deep red, having noticed what was in his hands.

“It’s worth considering all perspectives on leadership,” Erwin replies, more than a little defensive as the blush spreads across his cheeks. He rises from his position on the floor into a half-sit, slouched awkwardly as he rubs the back of his neck, refusing to make eye contact, and Levi laughs. “I told you, I want to be prepared for anything.”

“Sure,” Levi quips sarcastically, and sits down next to him. It’s playful, but Erwin still pouts at it. 

“Don’t you have something to be doing other than bothering me?” he asks.

Levi shrugs and flips the book closed, tossing it onto the floor beside him. “I thought you were the one telling me not to worry so much when Elias is away.” He knows he gets preferential treatment, but the truth is he’s not selfless enough to lecture Erwin on the morality of that. Besides, he does more than just his assigned tasks. Most of them do. It’s understood to be better to work as a group to avoid letting anyone fall behind or be punished.

Even so, he thinks he can spare a minute to sit and chat.

“I was,” he says, and closes the book he’s holding as well. The round lenses of his glasses focus the lamplight so that a single, off-gold point falls right under his eyes, not intense enough to burn, but enough to cast an odd shadow. “I wish you wouldn’t listen so often, though,” he jokes.

“It’s a hard life,” Levi mumbles. Though, if he’s honest, compared to the field work they had him doing before, it isn’t, not really. Most of the callouses on his feet have peeled off by now, leaving them soft and tender. He wonders how inefficient nearly six months of stagnation would have made him, if he were to be switched back by time summer broke again. The harvest season is short this far north, hardly a few months usually, sometimes only weeks. Would he still be capable of meeting his quotas? His jaw tenses at the thought, and Erwin seems to notice.

“What’s on your mind?”

He bites his tongue. Finding the right words to communicate what he actually wants to say could be tough. A long pause follows, and he watches the dust drift through the air before he finally opens his mouth and draws in a long, tired breath.

“Nothing,” he says finally. For all his attempts at generosity, at understanding, Erwin Smith could never actually understand what Levi had to tell him. The two lives they lead were incomparable.

And, more importantly, he doesn’t think that even if he could find the right words, Erwin would want to hear that. He’s taken Levi in as his own personal project, a charity case, and nothing more. Levi knows it, too. Probably to a certain extent, the interactions they share only serve as a temporary alleviation of Erwin’s guilt, a dissociation from the fact his life and status are built entirely on the suffering of others.

Erwin cocks an eyebrow, and Levi glares back, annoyed. 

“Really. It’s nothing.”

He stares Levi up and down, adjusts his glasses carefully. Levi doesn’t so much as flinch.

“As you wish,” Erwin says, and there’s a rustle as he finds his page again, and the moment slips out of Levi’s grasp.

* * *

He falls asleep again, at some point. 

Levi isn’t completely sure when he crosses the boundary between awake and asleep, but when he wakes again, the light outside has gone dark, the lamps casting long shadows along the floor. He feels something solid beneath his head, eyes fluttering closed again at the warmth emanating slightly off of it.

“Good morning,” a quiet voice teases him softly, and it’s at exactly this moment that Levi realizes he'd drifted off on Erwin's chest.

“Fuck,” he spits, jumping back in surprise, and then, a second time, louder, “ _Fuck._ ” 

Erwin chuckles gently to himself. “You were out for a while.”

Levi scowls, rubs his eyes in an attempt at orienting himself. “You should have moved me off of you,” he accuses, but Erwin only laughs again.

“I did,” Erwin says. Levi’s breath seems to catch in his throat at the impish little grin on Erwin’s face as he does. “And you came right back, so I figured I would let you rest." He moves a little closer to Levi, eyes never breaking their contact. Even in this lighting, they're striking, an odd accentuation that somehow still fits with the rest of Erwin's body, all sharp edges and hard muscle. "You don’t sleep enough, do you?”

It takes Levi a moment before he actually realizes how close they still are, that he can feel the whisper of Erwin’s breathing from how close he’s leaned in, and — _fuck_ , he thinks, as a blush creeps its way into his ears. What the fuck?

The realization hits him with a pang. Erwin has _leaned in._ Erwin still thinks he’s an _omega_.

Levi, on the other hand, hasn't moved away. 

Just like that, his whole body feels as though it’s screaming both for him to close the space between them as it is for him to recoil in disgust. He's never, _never_ gone after another alpha. It's not that he can't imagine it happening, it's just — for one thing Levi never typically went after much of anyone. He doesn’t know if Erwin knowing his actual status would change anything about the situation Levi has managed to get himself into either, considering he _is_ engaged to another alpha, but frankly Levi doesn’t care enough to find out. This is bad. This is very, _very_ bad. 

“Levi?” Erwin asks, his expression shifting quickly into something that looked a bit concerned, seemingly having noticed the tension in his posture. The word is enough to snap Levi out of it. 

He stands, steps back, limbs stiff at his sides as he looks away. “I need to go,” he grunts, and the smile dies on Erwin’s lips.

“Wait,” he stutters, trips to his feet, “hold on, what did I — ?”

“Nothing. I have some things I need to do.”

“I — oh.” The protest dies on Erwin’s lips, but Levi can tell he’s not completely satisfied with that answer. When he glances back, Erwin’s mouth is bent out of shape, clearly upset.”Levi, it’s ok if —” and he cuts himself off. His mouth opens and closes wordlessly, trying to find the right sentence. “I — I know it’s complicated, and scary. I know it’s unusual for two people of the same status —”

Levi cuts him off before Erwin can finish. 

“I’m not an omega,” he growls, his teeth bared, and then suddenly he feels the anger well up inside him. At his own "status," both as a slave and an alpha. At Erwin, for leading him here, bit by bit. For taking advantage of his position over Levi to maneuver what he believed was a susceptible omega into this position, one that he literally owned. As if to prove a point, Levi can smell his scent starting to flare up all around them, and, to his own surprise, he doesn't even try to stop it. He hates dealing with other alphas, _especially_ as masters. They all ended up being entitled fucking pricks looking for somewhere wet to shove their dicks. His own biology be damned, he refused to be like them. Like _Erwin_. He doesn't even register the implications of what Erwin had said.

The smell hangs in the air, thick and unpleasant. Erwin’s eyes go wide, and his mouth falls just the slightest bit open.

“I need to go. I've got other things to do.” The repetition of the words is firmer, more final than when Levi had said it the first time.

Erwin tries to say something again, but he’s already spun on his heel, taken enough steps towards the door that it would just be awkward for him to be yelling after Levi now. 

He grits his jaw as he leaves. _Absolutely_ not.


	5. Chapter 5

Levi switches all his out-of-kitchen duties with Nanaba’s the next day. Her schedule avoided the library completely, focused entirely on the eastern wing of the building. It was physically the furthest he could get.

“Why?” she’d asked him, raising an eyebrow, and he’d shrugged and looked away.

“Call it what you want. I prefer cleaning to rearranging things. You can deal with the sheepdog and his books.”

She hadn’t had much to say, had actually thanked him because his tasks were considerably fewer. He’d grunted. It’s not like he hadn’t already known that, but if it meant being able to avoid Erwin, it was worth taking on the extra work. Besides, it’s not like he deserved less work than the others in the first place. A quiet part of his conscience seems to have caught up to him in that regard.

What Levi had not considered was that Nanaba’s tasks had their own complications, ones that only became clear a few weeks into his avoidance of Erwin. He’s too busy scrubbing an upstairs hallway to hear the footsteps approach, polishing one of the windowsills when he feels a body slot itself behind him, freezes completely at the scent.

“I suppose it was only a matter of time before the other omega slave came mewling to me, wasn't it?” a voice growls in his ear. There’s a long, disturbing sniff at his hair. "Elias told me of your little _predicament_ a little while ago. How lucky to have so many easy options at my disposal as an alpha, don't you think?"

Levi shudders, but that only seems to egg Mike on, nose dragged down the curve of Levi's neck. His teeth graze over the gland on Levi’s left side, dangerous, and one of Mike’s hands rests possessively on his shoulder, the branded cross burning into his skin like it were fresh. He doesn’t share the same innate sensitivities to the touch that an omega would have, but the actions still feel both mildly alluring and absolutely repulsive.

It’s just alpha pheromones he reminds himself, shaking his head. He knows that they’re designed to induce submission, and that they work with partial effectiveness on betas and other alphas as well, but the feeling still leaves a gross aftertaste in his mouth.

“The only lament I have is that you should have let on to what you were earlier. We could have had so much more fun these past few months, instead of only having now. But, I suppose I can accept that maybe you thought the engagement would get in the way.” He pauses again, a rough movement as he grinds his hips up against Levi.

“I assure you, it doesn’t.”

Mike’s hands run their way along Levi’s stomach, and that’s what makes his brain jolt back into place, his body pushing back against the banister, forcing Mike to stagger backwards, off-balance, gives him an extra foot of space between them. Levi instinctively drops his shoulders into a fighting stance, teeth bared. There’s a moment, an agonizing cluster of seconds where neither of them moves, the hair on the back of Levi’s neck raised. It takes every inch of his self control not to react, the blue-green of the glass catching Mike’s dirty blond hair in two tones where it lands. 

A thin, _rotten_ smile creeps across Mike’s lips before Levi even has the chance to lunge at him. ”Oh, please. As though you don’t want it,” he leers. ”Aren’t you feeling a little deprived after months without an alpha around to remind you of your place?”

The memory of what Nanaba had offered him in the shower a few weeks before resurfaces in his brain, raw and vulgar, and once again Levi finds himself sympathizing with the hell that she must face in heat every six months. Mike draws closer, fingers wrapping around Levi’s wrist. He yanks it away defensively as the man looms in, the stink of alpha filling the corridor. If Levi _were_ an omega, he thinks it would probably have a greater effect on him, but as it stands, all it’s really doing is pissing him off, making it harder to control his own scent, anger boiling under his skin. 

“I could fix that, if you let me,” he breathes. The air dances over Levi’s skin, hot and uncomfortable. ”If you _want_ me,” Mike drawls, leaning in — and he’s tempted to let his hold on his temper go, to let Mike be completely aware of his true status, or better yet, rip out Mike's _fucking_ throat with his bare teeth.

But in the end, that would raise more problems than it would solve, and if nothing else, goddamn it, Levi is going to have control over himself and his _godforsaken_ temper.

Right as Mike’s hand falls on Levi’s hips, Levi kicks him in the shin, and Mike yelps, faltering. His fist catches Mike’s jaw a second later, the force sending the bigger alpha reeling backwards, doubling over in surprise. Levi’s heart pounds in his chest, the clatter of shoes against the floor as he stumbles back, bristling with adrenaline, panting.

He watches as Mike rubs his wrist to where Levi’s fist had connected to his cheekbone, eyes turning upwards to stare at Levi. It hadn't been a hard hit, considering that Levi _had_ exercised a certain degree of restraint, but it seems to have caught Mike off-guard nonetheless. The alpha looks shocked, for a moment, before his face breaks into yet another grin, and he laughs darkly.

“Spirited, for an omega,” he breathes, still chuckling. His eyes flash as though — as though he actually finds it _arousing_ that Levi has struck back.

Levi bites back the taste of bile on his tongue, acid burning in the back of his throat. "You're _disgusting."_

Mike doesn't seem bothered by the accusation at all, only shakes his head and mumbles, "Oh, you've got _no_ idea." He stands again, his full height towering over Levi as he draws closer again, hand reaching out to cup Levi’s cheek, tracing a line down the side of his face.

“But it's no matter to me," he says, slowly, savoring the way his hand glides over Levi's skin. "You’ll give in to your instincts, eventually, just like that bitch did. And you _will_ be mine,” he orders.

Levi’s jaw clenches under the touch, and Mike seems to notice, smiling and patting his cheek as he backs away. They both know what would happen if he throws another punch.

“There's a good boy, Levi. I can wait.”

He finds himself repressing yet another shudder of disgust as Mike peels away, disappearing down the hall.

* * *

Levi confronts her about it after dinner when they’re both washing the dishes. It’s quiet, the only other creature in the kitchen being a feral cat that Hanji lets in sometimes. She claims he's an expert mouser, but Levi suspects she just has a soft spot for the animal. Everyone else has mostly gone to sleep.

“I wish you’d told us about him,” Levi says quietly, and Nanaba stiffens at his words. 

There's a quiet moment where she stares into the grey dishwater. She sighs and places the pan down into the sink. “If you were in my shoes, you would understand better." She's smart enough to understand exactly what Levi had been referring to, without even the slightest hint on his part. His face doesn't show it, but he's more than a little impressed.

Levi also realizes in the same moment that she’d assumed he was judging her for the action.

“Fuck, I mean I don’t think it was _wrong_ ,” he clarifies, his nose wrinkling slightly. “But I wish you had told us, if ever you had wanted it to stop, or hadn’t wanted it in the first place. We could have kept switching you around, or made it harder to pinpoint you.”

Nanaba hardly seems to consider his words before shaking her head again. “You know as well as I do how made-up the word “want” can be. There is no want, only the power to give or to take. I did what I needed, both to survive, and for myself.” She pauses, and glares at the floor. “The fact that fucking _asshole_ thought he was calling the shots was just what I needed him to believe.”

Levi blinks back, once, twice, and shrugs. “Does Erwin know?”

“Probably,” Nanaba says, bluntly. “I imagine the scent lingers.”

Neither of them breaks the silence at first, the only noise being that of the scrub brush against the bottom of the pan as she picks it up and keeps working, a grating noise as she drags it in circles, flecks of residue flaking off. Levi dries off a plate, moving his way down the damp pile she’s stacked for him. 

“The offer you gave me, in the shower,” he says, “I just want you to know that if you need anything from me, I can also accommodate that. As a friend.” Something deep in his gut made him want to be sure she knew she never had to go back to Mike, if she didn't want to.

She smiles, looks up slowly and nods as though recognizing the depth of his words. “Thank you. I truly appreciate it.”

The cat has jumped off the table to rub itself against Levi’s legs, purring, and he reaches down to scratch its back. It looks up at him, large eyes blinking slowly, and it darts off under the counter.

* * *

Two full days pass after the incident in the hallway and his conversation with Nanaba, dancing around both Mike and Erwin now. Levi is tired of it, frankly, exhausted by the constant avoidance. Mike's carriage is scheduled to leave at noon, not due to be back for another month. 

He finds Levi at 11.

Levi can see him down the hallway, his duties leading him to the north end of the manor, on the top floor. The ceiling angles oddly here, the hall curving slightly, but he can make out the figure slouched at the end of it from a mile away. He could still probably turn around and walk away, but —

The parting words Kenny had gifted him ring out in his brain, as fresh as they were the day he was shackled and resold the first time. 

"You're small, kid. People're gonna underestimate you when you're small. Use it to your advantage."

At the time he had meant it about Levi being a kid. Of course he hadn't actually still been around when Levi had straight up stopped growing, but in light of that, the advice remained useful. Mike very obviously fell into the category of those who would underestimate him.

So, stubborn, or maybe just flat-out stupid, Levi keeps walking towards him instead. In equal parts because doesn't want to come back later, and, even though a smaller part of himself doesn't want to admit it, because he wants to spite the alpha.

Levi glares out the windows as he walks past. The snow and sleet is still coming down hard, has been since that morning, with no sign of letting up. The sound of wind crashing against glass drowns out the din of the people downstairs, a small group arranging some of Erwin’s things to be moved. With the wedding in than two months; it had been agreed that it was worth preemptively moving some of Erwin's belongings to Mike’s estate. 

He's leaning back on a window beside a pair of large, oak doors. Apparently the noise is enough to drown out his footsteps as well, because Mike doesn’t seem to hear Levi until he’s less than a few feet behind him, head swiveling on his shoulders, his face breaking into a grin. 

“So, you’ve finally come back then,” he says, less a question and more of a statement. Levi scowls. 

“Windows,” Levi deadpans back instead. He doesn't leave a second of hesitation in the air.

There’s a vague gesture at the glass behind him, and Mike’s body twists as though he hadn’t noticed the immense stained glass behind him somehow. It’s one of the ones that Levi is tasked with polishing every week. It’s one of the ones that Mike would _know_ that he was responsible for, no less, considering it had been one of Nanaba's chores before they'd switched. 

Mike chuckles, “Of course,” he purrs, leaning in. “It’s not like you could have walked away, come back in an hour or two after I was already long gone, is it? Though, I admit, this isn’t exactly the best time or place for me either.”

There’s another crash from outside. Levi growls, shoulders bowed into a defensive curl as the snow hits in waves against the walls of the house.

“Move,” he orders, and Mike clicks his tongue.

“Feistiness is rather unbecoming of you, Levi. I could have you culled for the insolence of your tone alone.” He reaches, taking a step forwards towards Levi, spurred on by the blind confidence of his innate belief that he's unquestionably superior. “Such a waste of a pretty creature, really. I'm sure you'd look lovely kneeled in front of me, omega.”

There’s not even a full second of pause before the hinges of the doors next to Mike swing open unexpectedly, and they both jump.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Erwin’s voice rings low in the small corridor as he pokes his head out, just loud enough to be heard over the dull roar of the wind outside. “I could hear you talking to someone.” His eyes glance over Levi, and break away without so much as a word.

Levi represses a frustrated sigh. He’s not sure if he’s grateful to or resentful for the disturbance.

“...No.” Mike says, far too controlled and calm. He follows up a few moment later with a forced, stilted chuckle, and Levi rolls his eyes.

Erwin steps fully out of the room and closes the door behind him, not a hair out of place, gelled down and smooth. Levi has no idea how Erwin always manages to look so impeccable. Farlan used to always manage the same, living in the fucking gutter with perfect hair, and clean shoes, and —

“Good,” Erwin says. He gestures loosely with his hand down the hallway, indicating for Mike to follow. There’s the briefest of flickers in Mike’s gaze, back at Levi, eyes burning, but he listens, lead softly away for just a few steps before pausing. 

He opens his mouth, Levi assumes to say some final words before leaving, but Erwin cuts the thought short. 

“Are you coming, or did you have something to discuss with Levi first?” he asks, turning to face Mike. Mike probably isn’t able to hear the change in his tone, notice the way Erwin’s eyebrows furrow the smallest bit as he props his glasses up on his brow, straightening them as he does. He’s not actually adjusting them for clarity, Levi is certain, it’s just a busy gesture.

Mike hesitates, eyes flitting back one final time before he grunts, “Of course.”

His eyes narrow, but he follows the other man away, and Levi lets out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding, placing his bucket and cleaning supplies on the ground. A splash of water manages to jump over the rim as he does, hitting the floor.

It strikes Levi in the moment after they disappear that Mike should be well aware of Levi’s status by now. The fact he keeps referring to him as an omega is puzzling, to say the least. Had Erwin not told anyone?

He’s not sure what to make of that fact. He doesn't have the energy to think about it too thoroughly, so he opts to believe that perhaps Erwin has his own reasons, and leaves it at that. 

* * *

Two months. The number feels like an insurmountable amount of time in his head. Two months until spring, which has never felt further than it does now, in the dead of winter, and two months until the date where Erwin leaves for good.

A part of him is glad to have a definite endpoint, where Levi can toss aside his concerns and thoughts and go back to routine. Work, sleep, eat. Dull his senses to the weird electricity of seeing Erwin down the hallway, only to cut away and avoid him. He knows what the feelings are, but he doesn’t like them, especially given the context that now he knows what Erwin is. Just another shit-for-brains alpha. 

Ironically, his wish of wanting to hate Erwin has been granted. The problem is that it’s come at the price of still wanting him. 

Still, the other alpha ignores him when they do cross paths, his eyes sadder than they are angry. Levi feels like a bug under a microscope lens, cold and dead, being watched intensely. No flares of aggression, nor any repercussions still. Elias must still have been unaware as well, since there were no men who came in to drag him back out to the fields, or worse, to be resold. He figures so long as he bows his head and maintains his composure, Erwin has no reason to tell his father anyways, but it confuses him nonetheless. The transition from warmth to absolute cold is so abrupt that Levi concludes the only reason Erwin had ever been interested in him had been his status as an omega.

Hanji seems well aware of his stress, tries to confront him about it a few nights after Mike has left, but Levi brushes it off with a glare. Unsurprisingly, the older beta is unfazed.

“You can trust me, you know,” she says to him, a small frown on her lips. “But everyone else is picking up on it as well, and it’s been making your roommate in particular more irritable. I need you to cooperate with the others, if we’re going to work together.”

“Fuck off,” he spits back. Her eye narrows, lips thin. The absolutely withering stare she fixes him with in response is difficult to stomach with a straight face.

“Suit yourself.”

He starts keeping more and more to himself, leaving only to work and eat, and retreating back to his room the moment his routine is done. Routine is the only thing he had had before, when he’d had to pull himself through a difficult time. Routine is the only thing he can guarantee himself, right now. He just needs to keep his head down.

The words “two months” become a mantra, echoing in his brain each time something newly unfortunate happens. Two months until the fucking alpha is moved in with his disgusting alpha mate. Two months, he tells himself every time he bows his head, serves Erwin tea, plates his food and feigns devotion. Two months. 

He’s mopping on the second floor when he hears the wheezing down the hall. Whether servant or master, he isn't sure, but the sound is heavy enough that he knows whoever is making it is in need of help. He props the handle against the wall, rounds the corner, and—

Levi doesn’t consciously allow his lips to pop open, but it happens anyway. The wet little smack is barely audible over the sound of Erwin’s breathing. He's propped up against the wall, his knees cocked at an odd angle, hair slicked to his forehead as his skin glistens with fever, panting like a dog — 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Levi says. His tongue clicks against his teeth. Erwin turns his face away in shame.

It turns out that Levi had, for the past half a year, assumed very, _very_ wrong. Alpha, his _ass_.

“You’re in _heat._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, the kitchen cat is saying it loves him  
> thats it thats my main commentary from this chapter  
> surprise on the status flip though :)
> 
> did i stitch some bullshit together in less than two days? absolutely. will I rewrite some of it? most likely. am I posting it all at once anyways? yes.  
> edit: damn i reread this like twelve hours after impulsively hitting post and I REALLY did not beta this at all. there will be a rewrite of this, jfc


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally mostly sexy stuff  
> skip to the notes at the end for plot summary if you don't want to read it

“You’re in _heat._ ”

But if heat is what it is, Levi’s only ever seen one like this before. Erwin’s fingers skitter along the shelves and grip the wall, scrabbling on the bricks in a vague attempt to keep himself upright. He’s not doing a very good job of it, either.

As Erwin’s gaze flicks up to Levi, standing dumbly in place, he can see how cloudy his eyes are, pupils blown out, dark and hungry. The scent glands on either side of his neck are swollen, breath coming in little puffs. He looks a lot like he’s staring at something far, far beyond Levi himself. Omegas in heat always seemed to have that look to them, he thinks to himself, the same one plastered on Erwin’s face right now. Like he isn’t all there, just an empty body with a single, biological imperative.

He inhales through his teeth without thinking, and the smell hits him like a brick wall.

He gags on the scent, his brain fizzles out for a long, nerve-wracking second, makes him cover his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and step backwards, afraid. Every cell in him is screaming to step forwards and lunge at Erwin, make him _his,_ and he resorts to breathing through his mouth, staggering slightly as he tries to focus.

Erwin stumbles again, and something inside of Levi manages to pull itself together long enough to realize he really should be helping him.

“Let me,” Levi gasps, stepping forward and slipping under his shoulder to steady Erwin. He wraps his arm around his back, propping Erwin’s ribs against his shoulder. He can feel Erwin’s heart fluttering under his skin, far, _far_ too quickly, and gulps.

In closer proximity, Levi notices that his scent is a lot like that of an overpowering alcohol — dark and earthy and rich, with just an edge of sweetness. Like the honey malt that Levi’s old household had saved for when they had important guests visiting. He shudders.

“I’m taking you to Hanji,” he says, breathing through his shirt sleeve again. He doesn’t know where else he would be able to take him. No one else is home.

He remembers he’s supposed to be angry with Erwin only after they start walking, and it’s astonishing how quickly he realizes that he also doesn’t particularly care that much right now. It’s probably just the hormones.

* * *

They stumble into the kitchen a few minutes later, Erwin collapsing onto the floor almost instantly, his breath laborious and strained. There’s no explanation required for Hanji to make her way over and press her hand up against Erwin’s forehead. 

He wonders for a second how she’d known exactly what was wrong so quickly, had known to check his temperature and make sure the glands in his neck weren’t blocking his airflow, and then his brain flicks back to their conversation a few months earlier. The way she'd brushed off his questioning about a double alpha bond, the way that she'd danced around the question of what that had meant, of why Elias would arrange a marriage for his son that didn't fit his biology when Erwin himself has specifically said he'd made the arrangements based on their presentations. If she had helped raise him, of course she'd known the whole time. He snorts, mostly to himself. She could have afforded to mention it before. Motherfucker.

Erwin’s eyes crease into a smile as she strokes his hair. “Zoe,” he murmurs in recognition, struggling to look up at her, and she hushes him.

“Save your energy,” she orders, tone solemn.

Keiji and Nanaba stand off to the side of the room, both transfixed by the scene. He knows that Keiji can’t smell him, his forehead wrinkled in confusion, but the other omega has her face covered with her sleeve, eyes wide. He can see her own pupils dilating ever so slightly, the hormones leaking off Erwin seemingly drawing her into a trance.

They lock eyes for a moment, a look of recognition passing between her and Levi, before her eyes widen in surprise with the realization of what that smell means. She opens her mouth to say something, eyebrow hiked up her forehead, but before she gets the chance to speak, he looks away, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his pants. He can see her out of the corner of his eye, still watching him.

The spell on Keiji breaks the second Levi moves however, hissing at the sight, pacing around the edge of the scene like a wild animal and backing Levi into the wall. 

“What did you _do?_ ” he demands. He looks ready to tear him apart, fingers resting dangerously over the collar of his shirt. There’s no pressure behind them, but the threat is still clear, and Levi can feel the hair on the back of his neck rise defensively, until Erwin laughs and diffuses the tension just as quick.

“Heat. Not his fault,” Erwin coughs. “I must have—” a pause, another wheeze, “—miscalculated my dosage.”

There’s a beat, and then — 

“Hold on,” Keiji demands. He looks back and forth, “he’s in _heat?_ ” His jaw flops open, relinquishing his grip on Levi’s collar to whip around and stare at Hanji, but she’s already up and across the kitchen, running a cloth under the tap. “He’s an _omega_?”

“Tie that over your nose,” she instructs, handing it to Levi, and turns back to face Erwin, crouching next to him. “How much were you supposed to be dosing?” she asks. Keiji grunts, watching Levi begrudgingly as he ties the fabric over his face. He’s still reeling from the trip of carrying Erwin all the way from the east wing, but the cloth filters out the smell a little, and he feels himself coming back into his body.

“Four and a half milligrams,” Erwin sighs, head rolling weakly to the side, and Levi watches as Hanji’s eye seems to pop out of its socket for a moment.

“ _Erwin!”_ The word comes out in a little squeak that sounds as though it should break her vocal cords in addition to her dignity. She coughs into her hand to clear her throat, gaze darting away for a moment, a bit sheepish. “What the _fuck._ ”

Levi quirks an eyebrow upwards in surprise at her reaction, his arms folded tight over his chest. He’s never seen her snap like that before. 

“Is that bad?” he asks carefully. He’d never had to learn much about heat suppressants before.

Hanji looks up at Levi, her expression deadpan. “That’s over three times the amount of isothynide a person should _ever_ be ingesting at one time,” she explains, then points at Nanaba. “She takes less than a _fifth_ of that.”

“Not that it’s public information,” Keiji mutters under his breath protectively, and Hanji sighs again.

“Just shut _up_ for a minute,” she groans, rubbing her fingers against her temples and muttering, “I don’t know what to _do,”_ under her breath _._ Her expression is one of pure anxiety as she shakes her head and looks back at Erwin.

“Can’t we suppress him again?” Levi suggests. “Just long enough for someone to get here who can help?” 

Hanji shakes her head. “Do you have and idea what kind of stress that would put his body under, when he’s already started his heat? Absolutely not,” she says harshly. “He’s already about to pass out. Another dose might kill him.” She pauses, glancing back to where Erwin lies on the floor, and grumbles, “It’s a miracle it hasn’t already.” 

She looks at Keiji, and says, “Send a message to Mike, and tell him to come early. Say that Erwin’s in trouble. And,” she adds, “get a message to the doctor in town. Tell him it’s an emergency. It should only take him a day to get here, but if we’re lucky, he’ll be more manageable by then anyhow.”

Keiji snorts in response, rolling his eyes. “Who put her in charge of this?” he snarks, but he stalks off to do it all the same.

Nanaba looks at Hanji, seemingly waiting for — well, something, and Hanji sighs. “Could you go with him? Maybe send a hawk to the Smiths,” she adds at the last minute. She pinches the bridge of her nose between her index and thumb.

Nanaba nods seriously at the instruction, disappearing after Keiji down the hall.

“Do you think you can carry him with me?” Hanji asks, turning back to face Levi. “We need to get him to his room.”

Levi grunts in affirmation. It’s the best answer he feels he can manage to get out right now. His thoughts get more and more fragmented with each breath, but he forces himself to stand and grab Erwin by the shoulder anyways, lifting him back up so that he and Hanji are each supporting him by one of his armpits. The cloth helps, but the stench seeps its way through.

“Follow my lead, then,” she orders, stepping forwards.

She leads Levi back up the stairs, past the library where he’d first found Erwin all those months ago, and up to the third floor, to the set of polished oak doors where he’d been standing a week before.

“Hold him for a second,” she orders, and opens the door carefully for Levi to step in, Erwin heavy in his arms, barely able to walk as Levi sets him gently on the bed. His feet are still hanging off the edge of the frame, clothes marked with damp, dark spots under his knees and arms, eyes drooping closed the second he hits the mattress.

She closes the door carefully behind her and steps forwards to observe him again, peeling back one of the lids slightly, and shivering at what she finds underneath.

“What is it?” Levi asks. Something in his gut shifts uncomfortably as she scrunches her eye closed and turns away.

“His eyes have started to go bloodshot.” she explains. “And they’re responding slower to light adjustment.”

“And?” Levi asks, waiting for her to tell him what that all actually meant.

“His capillaries are rupturing and his reflexes are going out. He might _die_ , Levi,” she hisses. “He’s in really, _really_ bad shape right now.”

The diminishing light of the day seeps in through one of the windows. Outside, Levi can hear the last of the birdsong before they settle in for the night. He stares down at the blonde man in front of him and feels his guts twist again at the idea of how fragile Erwin is right now.

“Help me lift him up a little,” she mutters, pulling out the blankets from under him. “He needs to be in the bed if we want him to stand a chance of sweating it out.”

He wonders briefly if he’ll be sold off again if Erwin dies here. Or, sent home, back to Isabel and Farlan.

“What do we do now?” he asks, deadpan, and Hanji shrugs.

“I need Mr. and Mrs. Smith. They need to come home as soon as they can,” Hanji says, stalking around the bed. “Need to figure out how _long_ he’s been on this dosage.”

She doesn’t really seem to even be _talking_ to Levi at this point, muttering something under her breath as she pushes open the door, a soft _thud_ as it hits the wall. Levi lets out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. 

He loosens the cloth over his nose, trying to take shallow breaths through his mouth, about to step forwards to follow her the same instant a hand knots around the material of his shirt.

“Levi,” Erwin pants, his voice faint. His hand clutches at Levi’s sleeve like it’s the only thing still tethering him to the earth, eyes hard and calculating as he opens his mouth to speak.

“Fuck me."

The soles of his shoes clack against the floor as Levi jumps, feet stumbling beneath him as he steps back. Erwin’s chest heaves up and down. The sweat stains at his armpits drip down a solid five inches.

It made sense; Mike is far, way off at his own estate, running check ins and errands for the next week until he’s scheduled to visit. Even if he gets the message in time, he won’t arrive for another day at the very least. In that same time it would take for him to return, Erwin would likely overheat, the fever burning him alive from the inside out, or suffocate from the swelling of his neck. Whichever came first. Levi had seen it before with some of the other pickers, the ones who went into what they had called a “death heat.” It happened most often if their mate had died, or been killed, the remaining widow too upset to take another. Their cycles would get worse and worse until —

He imagines a decade or two on suppressants would have a similar effect.

The gaunt face of his mother looms out of his memory at him, her skin crawling, breath coming in little rasps, stench emanating from the shriveled husk of her body. She had trembled on the floor for — he can’t remember how long, actually — held him close to her chest and hissed at any alpha who dared come near them. 

Eventually she had stopped moving, limp arm still clutched around him. That had been when his uncle had come to take him away.

“Please.” Erwin’s voice sounds like it has to scrape its way out of his throat, scratching and clawing at the inside of his body. He drags himself from the bed, trembling slightly as he stands, knuckles white in a vice grip on the bedpost to help support his weight.

“Mike.” The word is flat on Levi’s lips, and Erwin shakes his head.

“I don’t want Mike. I wouldn’t want Mike even if he were here.”

Despite the general state of disarray that Erwin is in, Levi also knows he’d be lying if he claimed he doesn’t find Erwin attractive, his mind flicking to the many, _many_ times he’s watched him from the corner of his eye as Erwin sat in the library, or outside in the garden, legs crossed as he flips through yet another book. Unwittingly, he imagines how Erwin’s hips would feel under his fingers, the way his shirts all hug tight around his biceps, how his mouth might look wrapped over Levi’s cock. He wouldn’t exactly have _trouble_ fucking him, he concludes.

And, he thinks, a little more quietly, Erwin would be in his debt. 

Levi could use that, knows that Erwin understands the give and take dichotomy of human interaction. He seems to have an understanding of what’s fair, at the very least. Even if they both came out of this completely indifferent, which Levi already knows likely won’t happen, he would honor that debt. As a standalone point, it makes it worth considering.

Erwin has managed to stop shaking a little, but his breath is still ragged, throat closing between the swollen glands lodged in either side of his neck. The scent of his heat is raw and thick in the air, and suffocatingly tempting, musky and sweet. He can feel it fume up through his nostrils and wrap around his brain. Levi takes a deep breath to steady himself and ends up filling his lungs further instead. 

If he were in a different state of mind, then maybe he would have questioned the request more. He knows they’re both teetering over the edge of something that under no circumstances could happen. Both what could transpire here, right now, but also what Levi had actively shut down last month.

But, he wasn’t.

Instead Levi wobbles in place, still weighing his options, unsure whether to step forwards or backwards, sways from side to side and turns in a tight little circle. Where had all of his self-control gone? He inhales again, once, twice, trying to focus on clearing the pounding thud of his heart out of his ears. 

And then, without letting himself think about it too hard, he shuts the door completely, sliding the lock closed. The _click_ of it falling in place makes him feel as though he’s signed an unwritten contract.

“Fine.”

At first it’s so quiet Erwin barely even hears it, exhaled past Levi’s lips as the frail ghost of a word. Then, much more loudly, much more firmly, “ _Fine_.” He shrugs off his vest and steps forwards, the fabric hitting the floor, grips Erwin by the back of his neck with one hand and reaches forward to knot his fingers in Erwin’s hair with the other. With a rough yank to the back of his head, he drags him down to bridge the solid foot of difference in their heights and crushes their lips together. 

The kiss is biting, brutal, teeth clacking together. The heavy, solid line of Erwin’s cock digs into his thigh, Erwin’s lip splitting open under his teeth, but they’re both too drunk on the moment to care — 

“You’re a little too eager to pass this off under the guise of simply doing me a favor, you know,” he whispers next to Levi’s ear, his face flushed. His skin is still burning to the touch, but there’s this energy about how he moves now, a franticness that Levi can’t quite understand as he falls back on the bed, Levi on top of him, his arm buckling under the weight for a moment before he’s able to steady himself. 

“Shut up,” Levi orders, slides his hands up either side of Erwin’s body, along the dip of his waist, his ribs, the strong planes of his shoulder blades. The fabric of Erwin’s shirt rides up around Levi’s wrists.

His mouth goes dry. “Can I take this off?”

Erwin nods, and that’s all the permission he needs.

He holds his arms up to make it easier for Levi to slide the sleeves over, which becomes a problem when he realizes that he’s too short to be able to reach up high enough to pull Erwin’s shirt off him. “Come here,” he grunts, tugging at the fabric until he sits up and drops his arms, and Levi can tear the stupid thing off him and toss it over the edge of the mattress.

When he looks up, Erwin is chuckling to himself.

He can feel the heat rising in his face as he slides his palms down Erwin’s hips again, and repeats, “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I can hear your fucking thoughts,” Levi grumbles, mostly to himself. His fingers slide under the waistband of Erwin’s pants, thumb wrapping carefully over the rim, pulling them slightly. Erwin’s hips seem to rise up the moment he does, allowing him to slip them off and toss them gently to the floor. Levi reaches down, Erwin’s body twitching as he wraps his hand around his cock and hums under his breath. He’s shaking, the smell of his heat amplified, and Levi can feel his own body shiver in anticipation as he runs his thumb in circles under the head.

“Is that ok?” he breathes, leaning in. 

Erwin’s eyelids flutter blissfully, nodding.

“You won’t regret this later?” Levi asks, uncertain, continuing to move his finger along the underside of Erwin’s dick. His head is swimming from the rush of hormones through his body. Erwin shrugs, knotting his shirt between his fingers and pulling him closer.

“I won’t,” he murmurs against Levi’s lips. He can feel Erwin’s hands slipping below the waist of his pants, shaking as they do, and he places his own on top of Erwin’s to steady them.

“Let me take care of you first,” Levi breathes, and Erwin shudders, completely still for a moment. He seems to relax under Levi’s touch, a hitch in his voice as he collects himself enough to answer.

“Very well.”

The moment passes, and he can feel the bigger man pushing against him once more, ever so barely less demanding though, can feel the rush of blood through his body as it finally gives in completely to his cravings, like slipping under the surface of a lake. Something low in his stomach bubbles with the thought of Erwin’s sweat-soaked skin, the muscular line of his thighs, the groan that comes from deep in his chest when Levi strokes the full length of his cock— 

He’s sitting up so his skin is flush to Levi’s shirt, pulling his face closer and kissing him again, the light catching his torso from behind, whimpers when Levi lets go of his dick. Levi is too preoccupied with twisting his arms to lift his own shirt over his head.

“Lie down,” Levi orders, pushing him back until Erwin is up against the sheets. There’s a dull _whooshing_ noise as he balls up the fabric and throws it on the floor, his pants following after a bit of fumbling with the button. He gently nudges Erwin’s thighs apart, slotting himself between them, and Erwin writhes under him, hooking his thighs over him Levi’s hips and feeling out how their bodies might best fit together.

“Levi,” Erwin whines, “ _please._ ” There’s a thick trail of slick leaking between his legs, and Levi clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Quiet,” he says, his voice rough, and Erwin lets his lips fall open under his palms, his head lolling off to the side, one of the glands on his neck laid bare, resting just under the skin. Levi has to remind himself that it’s only a reflex. He’s seen it before.

There’s something beautiful about the picture though, he thinks. The way the light falls on Erwin’s face, the odd angle of his throat as his head swivels, his dick curving up softly to brush the skin of his own stomach. He feels his eyes linger just a little too long on where his lip is swollen from Levi’s teeth, thin red line cracking it in two when he pulls his hand away from Erwin’s mouth.

The manicured edges of Erwin’s fingernails dig into his thighs, migrating to the back of his ass, needy. It almost surprises him when he makes a high-pitched kind of groan and squirms as Levi gently pulls the foreskin of his cock back, runs his thumb along the underside, teasing the smooth line that separates the shaft from the head. 

“ _Levi,_ ” Erwin repeats, and this time there’s some kind of urgency to it, his body writhing as he does. The vein under his thumb swells thick enough that Levi can trace it with the pad of his finger.

“Too—“ Erwin pauses, breathing hard, “—too slow.” He pants, touching Levi’s side, thumb digging into the soft indent just above his hipbone.

Levi brushes it away deftly. “Be more patient, then,” he replies, his lip curling upwards ever so imperceptibly as he does. If he’s being perfectly honest, he’s mostly just having fun at this point, stroking Erwin’s cock again, squeezing around the base and giving it a solid tug before he slips a finger into him. He’s vaguely aware of Erwin’s heel digging into the small of his back as he does. 

Erwin whines, the sound halfway between content and absolutely wrecked as Levi curls the digit inside him, watching his chest heave, the way his hips roll back onto Levi’s hand, the way his cock twitches under Levi’s palm and oozes precome over his thumb. He adds a second one, and Erwin strains on top of his knuckles, breathless.

Levi smirks at the sight. “Don’t you want to be properly prepared for me?” he asks softly.

He pulls out his fingers carefully, placing the hand over Erwin’s hips and stroking him lightly. It’s met by another shiver, and an inhumane groan. The force of his arms and knees around Levi’s hips holds him firmly between his legs. Erwin is still hot to the touch, bending like the limb of a tree under him, and — whether intentionally or accidentally, Levi finds himself not really caring which, — the head of his cock brushes up against the slick insides of Erwin’s thighs when he shifts his weight. Levi has to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning out loud. 

Erwin, on the other hand, seizes the opportunity. All it takes is that second of distraction for the larger man to lean over and knock Levi backwards, effectively reversing their positions on the bed as he towers above him. Levi blinks twice, not completely certain he understands how he got there as Erwin sits atop him, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his waist. 

“I think that’s _enough_ preparation,” he growls, voice gravelly and low. His movements are still calculated and deliberate, but with a fever about them that feels dangerous, at best. Levi’s stomach does a flip as he realizes that Erwin is perched on his thighs, legs spread wide as he lines up Levi’s cock.

He opens his mouth to respond — probably with something snarky, or clever, or both — something intended to remind Erwin that he was the one in charge here, but any capacity he might have previously had to do so is blown entirely out of the water as Erwin forces himself down onto his cock in one smooth motion.

There’s a moment where neither of them moves. Levi’s fingers latch instinctively onto Erwin’s hips, his breath coming out in a long, heaving whoosh of air. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, and Erwin laughs quietly again.

Erwin rocks back and forth atop him, as though trying to adjust to the feeling, his eyes fluttering closed as he does. Levi takes the opportunity to buck his hips up into him, nails digging into the meat of his thighs, muscle coiled tight under the skin, and feels Erwin tighten around him in surprise, flinching at first, but he bites his lip and lets out a quiet, _embarrassingly_ needy whine when Levi does it again.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he repeats, feeling Erwin sink back down onto his dick. He braces his hands against Levi’s stomach, forcing himself up and letting himself fall back down, the tip of his cock bouncing softly against his stomach with the motion.

The way Erwin moves is entrancing, Levi thinks, lithe and graceful and true to the nature that he’s been trained to exhibit, and yet there’s also something wrecked underneath it all. His hair falls in damp little curls over his eyes, the way it always does when he doesn’t gel it back, sticking to his forehead as a series of horrifically needy sounds tumble out over his lips, still somehow very much both himself and not himself as he comes undone all around Levi. There’s no proper rhythm to the motion though, and it occurs to Levi extremely abruptly that this is probably his first time.

It also occurs briefly to Levi at this moment that Erwin doesn’t even come close to fitting the typical picture of an omega. Sure, he’s quiet for a man of power, but his stature, his status, the way he instinctively knows how to hold himself, or when to square his shoulders into a fighting stance, — hell, even just his height by itself, — absolutely _screams_ ‘alpha’. Even now, there’s no questioning that Erwin is the one setting the pace, erratic as it may be, no pleading or mewling as he forces himself up and falls back down on Levi’s cock, coiled and powerful. That Levi is the one getting fucked, even though Levi is the one inside him.

In hindsight, to his credit, he thinks back to all of the occasions where Erwin had remained calm, had accepted Levi’s shows of defiance without so much as batting an eye in response. Most of the time, Levi had chalked it up to exceptional self-restraint. He knew that obviously a person’s biology didn’t necessarily have to dictate their actions, that not all alphas would feel the need to react in those situations. But maybe, he realizes, in retrospect, Erwin had intentionally built up a series of walls for him to hide his status behind. He’s not dumb; he might even have picked up on the fact that Levi was an alpha himself, long before Levi had revealed his true nature.

He raises a hand to the small of Erwin’s back to steady himself, ground himself a little, feeling the strong lines of muscle and the knobs of Erwin’s spine under his palm, strokes a thumb along the bottom of Erwin’s thigh. Sweat slicks the pads of his fingers, and he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the soft skin just under Erwin’s jaw when he leans down. 

“You close?” Levi asks, and it’s only then that he gets to hear the quality of his own voice: breathy and wrecked. He bites his own tongue, embarrassed, but if Erwin notices, he doesn’t seem to care.

“I’ve been close—” he gasps, and pauses. A hot little bolt of electricity jumps up Levi’s spine as he crashes down on Levi’s cock again, making a circle with his hips, “—for almost two hours.”

Levi snorts. “I don’t think you understand what ‘close’ means.”

Erwin’s palms migrate farther upwards on his chest, grazing the brand on his shoulder and dropping him down a few centimetres closer to Levi, his face looming hardly an inch away. His hair hangs forwards in discordant curls, eyes half-lidded and lips parted in an open pant.

“I don’t think you understand how heat—” he says, breathlessly, and Levi’s eyes roll upwards in his skull to meet Erwin’s. He groans and leans down, burying his nose into the skin of Levi’s neck, “—works.”

Levi grunts in response, not really wanting to give Erwin the satisfaction of a proper answer. Instead, he just lets Erwin fuck him, figuring it’s best to let the omega take what he wants, listening to the sound of skin on skin and the noises that come from deep inside Erwin’s throat, satisfying in a way he can’t quite place, and tries to focus on maintaining at least a shred of his composure. He’ll be damned if he finishes before the guy in fucking _heat_.

He can feel Erwin’s breath, hot and humid on his skin, fingers gripping his chest as he leaves a trail of blotchy red prints on the junction between his shoulder and neck, can feel his teeth scrape dangerously over the swollen outline of Levi’s throat.

“ _Levi._ ” Erwin’s voice shakes, his muscles tremble. His mouth grazes over the gland on the left side of Levi’s neck again, and Levi shudders.

“Don’t,” he growls, deep and feral.

But no matter how he tries to convince himself it isn’t, the temptation is unquestionably present for both of them. From where his nose buries into the crevasse of Erwin’s jawline and his shoulder, he can practically bite straight down into his flesh, break the skin and stake his claim. He wouldn’t even have to turn his head. Something hot and restless writhes in the pit of Levi’s gut, curls around the base of his spine and crawls its way up his back at the thought.

He shakes his head. He’s been with omegas in heats before, but he’s never had to talk himself out of _claiming_ one until — well, now. All that Levi has ever felt when thinking about the fact that he could claim someone is how deeply uncomfortable the thought makes him.

And yet — he can’t help but imagine it anyways, Erwin’s skin splitting open under his teeth, the gush of blood, the knowledge that nothing and no one would be able to reverse the fact that Erwin would be undeniably and irrevocably _his,_ slave or owner be damned. For a split second, the only thing that keeps Levi from giving into that urge is the fact that he knows Erwin doesn’t actually want it. It’s just — reflex. Hormones. Both, most likely.

He licks his lips, presses them to Erwin’s neck. Erwin trembles, and — something inside Levi snaps a little. 

Levi pulls him down, down, feels Erwin clench around him with a held-back shout when he puts a hand around the base of his cock, working his fist over the head. That’s all Erwin needs to be pushed over the edge, coming into Levi’s palm as it wraps around his length, back arched, legs taut, hands digging into Levi’s skin. He slows the rhythm of his bouncing, an animalistic growl as he rides it out, their lips meshing together, starved.

Levi picks up where Erwin falters in the wake of his climax, panting, bucking up into him, thrusts short and uncontrolled. His own orgasm is building faster than he’d like, but he can feel Erwin still gripping tight around him. He’s already hard again as Levi sends him barreling towards a second. 

Levi’s been with omegas in heat before, he thinks for the second time. Levi knows to press down on the small of Erwin’s back so he’ll arch it, so the head of his cock can rub up against that little spot inside him, knows where his fingers will find the best grip over his hipbones.

Erwin’s neck drops, leaning forwards and practically shoving it under Levi’s teeth, whining, the sickly sweet smell right under Levi’s nose as he _inhales_ reflexively, and tells himself that it’s all just his fucking _hormones_ again, repeats it like a mantra as he fights the part of him screaming to do it, to open his mouth and _sink his teeth in_ —

Levi’s _never_ been out of control like this.

The world seems to come to a shrieking, stuttering halt as Erwin bites into his shoulder, tongue flicking over his skin, and moans, “ _Do it._ ”

His brain flips off entirely as he sinks his teeth into the muscle, feels himself almost black out as every inch of his body positively screams in ecstasy. The metallic taste of blood rolls over his tongue, and Erwin’s insides squeeze as he comes a second time, toes curling. Levi feels himself follow right after him, the force of it hitting him like a brick to the head.

They sit for a moment, Erwin collapsed on his chest. He falls to the side, a squelching noise as he rolls off Levi’s dick, come running down the inside of his leg. Levi’s nose wrinkles, semen all over his hands and stomach. He wipes his palm against the sheets. He’ll wash them later, he thinks.

It takes him a second to collect himself enough to realize exactly what’s happened.

“Shit,” Levi hisses, and then, a second time, louder, shoving Erwin up to run his fingers over the skin of his throat. “ _Shit._ ” Erwin’s head lolls to the side limply, mouth falling open as Levi’s hand grazes the soft flesh under his jaw. He’s still recovering from the aftermath, breathless and glistening with sweat.

He _bit_ Erwin. Panic mounts in some deep, dismal cavity of his chest. He actually _bit_ him.

Levi clicks his tongue, tracing the bone of his mandible. The teeth marks fall just barely under the gland nestled in Erwin’s neck, swollen to the size of a fingernail. Already, he can see it shrinking back down, unbroken.

The sigh that comes whooshing out of him feels like a weight being taken off his chest, falling back against the sheets in relief, gaze drifting back to Erwin as he rolls on his side. Levi stares at him, wordlessly, watches the gentle rise and fall of his stomach. Something in his chest warms when Erwin finally stirs, waking from his trance.

His eyes flutter open sluggishly, still pinkish, but considerably less foggy than before. When Levi brushes the hair from his face, he notes that the fever has also definitely gone down, pupils shrinking back to a regular size. His nose wrinkles at the pervasive smell of heat that lingers in the room, but even that feels less sharp, less pungent than before. Levi considers briefly it’s also possible he may have just gotten adjusted to it. 

“What?” Erwin asks him, softly. The edge of his lips curl up, a tiny, smug little smirk as his hands brush over the sheets, settling on the edge of the mattress, Levi’s head resting just under his bicep. The other one falls over Levi’s waist, thumb tracing back and forth over his ribs in a slow, calming movement.

“You asked me to _mate_ you.” Levi deadpans back, not bothering to mince his words, and — there’s a moment where he’s just met by wide eyes.

Erwin blinks, reaches up to touch his neck gingerly as though he can’t quite remember if it were true or not, his index tracing over the bite mark. He pulls back his hand, damp with his own blood, and stares like he doesn’t know what to think about it. Eventually, there’s a sheepish cough, a pause as though he’s trying to find the right words. 

“I may have gotten a touch carried away.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “No shit.” He shifts his shoulders, the top of his head grazing Erwin’s arm. The softness of the mattress seems to swallow him whole. In an hour or two, he knows the heat will seep back, but right now, Erwin’s face relaxes into a smile.

“Language,” he chuckles, wrapping his arm back over him to pull him closer. Levi lets Erwin hold him without thinking too hard, head tucked against his chest, his other arm snaking around to encircle him. He has half a mind to shrug Erwin off, but — it’s warm. He doesn’t particularly want to move.

“Mm,” Levi grunts back. “Feeling better?”

He’s never really been one for pillow talk. Hardly ever even stayed long enough to get all his clothes back on properly. Most of the experiences Levi has had before were rushed, purely functional, a means to an end. He supposes that’s why he’d never really associated it to any form of tenderness, just another thing to get out of the way so his body can work properly. It feels odd, to be held in another man’s bed, the smell of sex still heavy in the air as their legs tangle together. 

Erwin sighs, traces his fingers through the downy black hair around Levi’s ears, tucking it back. “A bit,” he says. “Thank you.” He presses a kiss to the top of Levi’s head, and Levi frowns.

There’s a knowing twist in his gut, a quick little knot as his skin crawls under Erwin’s lips. He wants to lean into it, and the feeling — _scares_ him. Catches him off guard.

“Weird fucking thing to say after sex,” he mutters coldly instead. Erwin’s arms tense around him as he does. 

“I —” Erwin falters, blinking. His mouth flattens, corners pressed tight to form a thin line. “—I suppose.” He wets his lips, and adds, a bit quieter. “Sorry.”

“Whatever,” Levi says, and rolls over. His back is still pressed to Erwin’s chest. 

In an hour or two, the heat will come back, he thinks. It’s better to wait it out here.

Levi closes his eyes, and lets himself be carried off by sleep until then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i beta ANY of this no please let me know what's up
> 
> plot summary:  
> \- erwin goes into a death heat (ie a heat that can kill a person if they have suppressed them for too long or ignore their biology too long) due to a dangerous level of suppressants  
> \- word is sent to mike, papa smith, and a doctor for help, however they're at least a day or two away  
> \- hanji and levi carry him to his room, erwin's vitals start to show symptoms of failing as they tuck him into the bed  
> \- hanji leaves, levi is about to leave when erwin grabs on and asks him to help him through his heat  
> \- levi contemplates this and eventually agrees  
> \- erwin seems intent on making levi mate him, levi almost does, bites him in the neck, just below the gland  
> \- realizes what has happened, checks but finds the gland unbroken  
> \- decides to stay with erwin until the morning since he'll likely go back into a feverish state in a few hours anyways.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a shorter chapter. I think I'm gonna take a break on this for a bit again :') probably will be working more on ISCK since i've hardly posted _any_ of that, oops

Levi doesn’t know for certain how many times they fuck before the morning comes, drifting in and out of consciousness. He rolls out of the bed, folds back the silky sheets and dresses just before the dawn breaks. The thought of uncurling himself from under Erwin’s arms, of leaving the omega alone to make his way down to the basement, to his room and the showers, is repulsive.

He forces himself to do it anyways.

It’s still dark as he does up the buttons on his shirt, fingers fumbling over the fabric, when he feels Erwin’s still-naked body press against his back, locking together like two parts of a single whole. It’s both less and yet so much more alarming than the run-in he'd had with Mike.

“You forgot to say goodbye,” Erwin murmurs against Levi's ear. Licks a hot stripe along the back of his neck, tongue tickling against the stubble at the base of his undercut. A slithering feeling courses down his spine when Erwin’s arms wrap around his hips, fingers nestled snugly against his stomach, under the waistband of his pants.

“Didn’t forget,” Levi says. His hands fidget, trying to force the button through the hole of his collar. An uncomfortable wave of embarrassment spreads over his cheeks, gaze fixed pointedly on the floor. “Just not going far.”

Erwin takes a deep breath against the skin of his throat, his nose tracing along the outline of Levi’s jaw, right across the gland under his skin again. 

“Somehow,” Erwin says, softly, apologetically almost, “I don’t entirely believe you.”

Levi breathes, makes an inarticulate noise between a grunt and a sniff, and shakes his head. “Don’t have a choice, actually, in case you forgot.” The words come out colder than intended, but he finds himself not really actually caring all that much. Erwin frowns. “You literally owning me is complicated enough without you getting sentimental.”

“I didn’t forget.” He wrinkles his nose, and adds, even quieter than before, “You know how I feel about that."

“Sorry, about _what?"_ Something about the defensiveness of his tone sends Levi’s insides into a boil. "The fact that you _own_ me?” He shoves Erwin’s arms away, steps back, shirt halfway open. The anger — honestly it probably seems to come out of nowhere for Erwin. But it's had time to ferment, years to grow in Levi's chest, of watching everyone he'd ever cared for suffer, and now — _now_ that some pompous omega with enough status has found Levi of interest, things are suddenly _different_ than before? As if any amount of time spent in the stupid library could change the fact that if Erwin had wished it — regardless of Erwin's morality and whether he actually would do it or not, — he could have had his way with Levi at any time. The fact he's chosen not to doesn't really redeem that point.

Erwin nods, slowly, and Levi pushes him again, square in the chest, as if to emphasize his words. “ _Prove_ it. Change the laws. You have the authority required to appeal them.” Erwin bites his tongue as though holding back on saying something, and Levi is _dead_ sure that he's probably regretting having read all those political books to him right about now.

“I’m going to, I promise, but now isn’t — it isn’t the right time.” Erwin licks his lips, nervous. He reaches out and touches Levi’s shoulder, the brand feeling like it’s burning deeper into his skin, hot under the weight of his palm. The excuse is weak, and they both know it. “Now isn’t the time to be making political gambles. That’s what the marriage—”

Levi rips away his arm, stepping further backwards, but Erwin continues anyways.

“I don't have the authority right now. That’s what the marriage was for, initially,” he finishes, bleakly, and Levi raises an eyebrow. “With twice the negotiating power on the table, I would actually be able to make those appeals. Isn’t that what you'd wanted?”

Levi doesn’t even bother answering the question. It’s a distraction from what Erwin is actually implying.

“ _Was_ for?” he demands. His foot taps against the floor. "Why are you speaking in past-tense?"

Erwin looks away, not sure what to say. Levi has to scoff. 

“You don’t seriously think that this actually _changes_ anything, do you?”

"...I've been reconsidering," Erwin admits slowly. "Trying to find a different way."

The room goes dead quiet. Erwin clears his throat anxiously, and Levi feels his eyes widen, the hair on his arms rise as Erwin opens his mouth to answer him. Of course he has. Who gave him the _right?_

“I had hoped —“ he starts, but Levi cuts him off.

“Yeah, well, you could have _asked_ first,” he snaps. His shirt still isn’t done all the way to the top, collar flipped upwards, but he doesn’t care. “As though this was ever all about me either, by the way. What, so you want to call off your little power wedding entirely? Because you have… _feelings_?” His mind flips to his memories of bandaging Isabel's bleeding feet after a long day of work, knowing full well that she'll open the wounds again the next day.

Whatever Erwin's intentions were, they were for the wrong reasons, he concludes, his jaw set. He couldn't understand.

“Levi. This isn’t a one sided discussion,” Erwin says. His tone is still quiet, but there's a steady resolve to as well, a commanding aura in his carefully chosen words. “I know… I know you also want something to happen here. Or,” and Erwin pauses, glancing away, “I think you do, at least.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughs. “When did my opinion on the matter come into consideration? Was it _before,_ or _after_ you tried to get me to mate you?”

He feels his hold on his anger slacken, just enough that he can smell it on the air. It’s dense and electric and upsetting, his nose tingling. He doesn’t care — _wants_ Erwin to notice it, actually, after years of monitoring his emotions to avoid lashing out, avoid setting off his own _stupid_ biology _._ In the wake of actually paying attention to the air around them though, he realizes Erwin’s own scent is mixed in as well, faint, but still there. He can’t tell if it’s only mild anxiety or just flat-out scared, but either way, Erwin smells distinctly... _afraid._

“I had hoped to bring it up when we last spoke, last month,” Erwin says softly, arms crossed tight over his ribs, hands folded into his armpits. He’s still naked, and Levi can see the way his body curves gracefully, the sturdy bridge of his shoulders, the way his oblique muscles fold into his abs, flesh folding into flesh. "Even with what I assumed was both a biological and social conflict between us."

Surprisingly, though, as breathtaking as Erwin’s physique is, that’s not actually what gives him pause. It’s the long, apologetic, stare that Erwin fixes him with, the striking blue of his eyes, the slight beak of his nose as his head dips downwards. He looks like Levi has kicked his puppy, and the same part of him that had allowed Erwin to wrap his arms around him just a few hours ago falters, a biting ache nestled deep in his chest. 

“Of course this isn't just about what I want, though. And even if we wanted the exact same things, I _cannot_ call off the engagement now, not without other sacrifices." Erwin's eyes crease into a small, sad smile, one that Levi can tell is an acknowledgement that no matter how this ended, Erwin still loses. "But I also don’t want to lose you, Levi, and I'll do what I need to protect you, if it ever comes to that. I refuse to deny myself the honesty of what I feel.”

There’s a _pang_ in his gut as he realizes that he actually wants to kiss Erwin.

“Fuck off,” he spits, grabbing his vest off the floor. “I don't _want_ your fucking protection, Smith. Go cry on your fiancé’s shoulder instead.” 

He slams the door behind him, shirt still halfway open as he steps into the hall and storms down the hall, sleeves ruffled and buttons hanging open, feels some deep, long-ignored part of his chest stir uncomfortably.

* * *

Erwin doesn't come out of his room once throughout the entire day. At some point, Hanji asks him to take something up to his room, and Levi actually snarls at her.

“Get someone else to do it,” he snaps. He’s brutally aware that he probably still reeks of a whole cocktail of hormones. If he focuses, he can still make out Erwin’s scent thick on his skin, overwhelming and insufferably present. As if things aren’t bad enough already, it seems like everyone else can, too.

He’s caught Nanaba now, — twice, in fact — staring at him, her mouth opened as though to say something before it snaps closed, Levi glaring back at her. She seems to understand not to ask too many questions, and while he’s in too foul a mood to ever admit it, some part of him is deeply grateful to her for it.

The other staff is all beta, but even then he knows more than a few of them have caught on that something is out of place, from the way their eyes linger just a little too long. It’s humiliating, the low sound of sniffing and subtle, little coughs following him all day. But if any of them do manage to put two and two together, they keep it to themselves. The only person who probably knows exactly what had happened is Hanji. She’d seen him come in that morning, sleeves ruffled and buttons still hanging, watched him stomp past and disappear down the stairs to the showers. At this point, it’s not really a question if she knows that something had transpired, but more how much she’s pieced together.

So when he finds her sitting in the kitchen in a broken-down looking chair that night, a cup of tea at her side while she idly watches the coals of the oven burning down, he's not terribly surprised. Whether intentionally or not, she's blocking the doorway to the basement just enough that Levi can't quite squeeze by, not without being noticed.

“Do you _ever_ sleep?” he mutters, and she looks up from the flames, eyes drowsy. The words cause her mouth to curve upwards slightly, a wry little smile on her lips.

“Good evening to you too.” She sips her tea, leaning back in her chair. “It’s my job to clean up after meals, you know, but if you wanted to use the kitchen for something else, feel free to say so.”

Her tone is laced with sarcasm. It’s not cruel — he knows she’s fucking with him, — but he still slams his vest against the wooden counter in response, folds his arms over his chest and glares wordlessly back at her.The noise startles her, and she blinks, seeming to understand without him needing to say anything more.

“That bad?” she asks. Levi looks away, and she cocks her head to the side, leaning forwards as though to better listen. “There’s more tea in the pot if you want. Sit.” She pushes a cup across the table at him.

It’s a weak peace offering at best, but he takes it, the legs of the chair grating on the floor as he pulls it out and flops down, still angry. 

“So,” she coughs, carefully. “You and Erwin..?”

“Fucked,” Levi deadpans back, “yes.”

An eyebrow hikes its way up her forehead at the answer, surprisingly direct. “Oh. You didn’t, like…” She pauses, and then points at her teeth, making a biting motion. 

Levi sighs, puts his hand down on the table and buries his face in his palm, exasperated. “No, I didn’t _mate_ him. Jesus _fuck,_ Hanji.” 

He doesn’t add how close it got.

"Oh," she says, and goes mute. "I just, somehow I thought maybe —"

"Why?" he asks, not even letting her finish.

She rubs her fingers against her temples, sighing. “I don’t know how to tell you this,” she says, which only annoys Levi more. If she has something to say, then she should fucking spit it out and get it over with.

“What?” he demands.

“You... smell different. Or rather, _have_ smelled different all day. So does he, for that matter,” she exhales loudly. The way she screws up her brow makes it clear exactly how difficult choosing the correct words probably feels for her right now. “Like you’ve been… _marked?_ Look, you smell like him,” she finishes, lamely.

Levi shrugs, and bites his tongue to avoid saying something else unpleasant. “Not my problem.”

“Levi,” Hanji says carefully. “It is, if I may, kind of exactly your problem. I’m not even an alpha, and I can smell it. Mike has the best nose of anyone I’ve ever met, and he gets here tomorrow morning. That, and the massive bite mark on Erwin's neck that the doctor dressed. What do _you_ think is going to happen?” she asks him, softly.

He looks away, and Hanji pouts. “None of us are going to sell you out. But, I think it’s best if you stayed out of sight. Just until the smell fades, at least. The bite we can explain away, somehow. The fact it's been bandaged will help.”

He grunts. He’ll have no trouble avoiding Erwin Smith and his stupid fiancé, he thinks to himself. None whatsoever. That being said, it irritates him to no end that she seems to think he'd actually have a problem keeping his distance. Without even realizing it, he catches himself rolling his eyes at the idea.

"You think I _want_ to go looking for trouble right now?" he asks, and she shrugs. 

"I'm just telling you this because I don't want to lose another kitchen boy," she grunts, and while Levi knows she'd meant it as a joke, there's an underlying grain of truth to it that makes him a little uncomfortable as well. 

"Fine," he grunts, standing. He snatches his vest from the counter and she scoots forwards, allowing him to pass into the dim hallway that lead down to the commons.

"Levi?" she calls after him, and he pauses.

"Hm?"

"Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault. It was irresponsible for me to leave you there," she says. "I should have made sure you came out with me. I'm sorry."

He feels his temper flaring up again, rising to a slow boil. Did she think he was completely at the mercy of his hormones? 

"I'm not a fucking animal, Hanji," he grunts back. The response is tempered carefully, only because he knows she'd meant it well. All the same, there's a bit of bite to the words. "I know what I did, and I made the decision to do it."

Her eye narrows, and — he can't tell if it's pity or empathy. Was there really a difference, at this point?

"Alright," she says.

He turns his back, the conversation clearly over, and disappears down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cat's outta the bag y'all

**Author's Note:**

> some universe notes. I chose to put these here for folks who didnt want any spoilers to the story itself, but ive also marked them individually.
> 
> \- not a/b/o related but i imagine this is roughly in the same time period that canon occurs in.  
> \- no knots. not my thing. claiming/scent glands is kinda a thing, mainly just… because i wanna? eh. it helps give a more solid understanding of relationships between characters, i feel, and it wouldn't really make sense to me personally that a world so heavily built around scent wouldn't have some kind of inherent communication/second meanings attached to intimacy when regarding of the scent of a person. Also, there's two glands, one on either side of the neck. i imagine that biting just one would get the job done but some folks will do both  
> \- in addition to knots, no mpreg. firstly, squicks me a bit tbh, and also m omegas can impregnate f alphas, or even f betas/omegas. think of it as a second layer to a person’s biology, not the overlying and dominating factor. (SPOILER) erwin and levi are still very very gay, but gayness is less prevalent as a concept in this au since there’s multiple deciding factors other than sex/gender.  
> \- on that note too betas can’t smell as well as omegas and alphas can, and can’t pick up on pheromones much if at all. they mostly tend to blend in, though a beta can end up mating an alpha or omega. a/o relationships just tend to work on a hormonal level, but a/b, a/a, o/o, or b/o can also work just fine, though socially are considered a little stranger, (SPOILER) hence levi’s reaction. consider a/a and o/o the more "gay" relationships, I suppose, thought even then.. not really. like i said before, thanks to the extra layer of sexuality, what's "gay" and "straight" is intentionally very murky as a definition.  
> \- it’s a fairly even blend of population, with a/b/os ranking about 25%/50%/25% respectively.  
> \- suppressants work both to suppress heat but also to suppress scent, so an omega on suppressants wouldn't present any scent at all, even when stressed/excited/whatever as mentioned below.  
> \- a person isn’t typically naturally scented, unless in a heat/mating cycle, so it’s harder to discern immediately what someone’s status is unless they make a point of showing/divulging it  
> \- heats are roughly every 5 to 6 months (between 22-26 weeks)  
> \- alphas and omegas do unintentionally smell stronger when experiencing strong emotions (like excitement, stressed, etc,) though, and this can be revealing to other a/os around them of their status.  
> \- (SPOILER) a/o status can tend to affect your stature, but it isn’t a perfect science. levi and erwin are both examples, and most of the time an alpha status doesn’t mean you’ll be big if you’re malnourished like levi was, the same way an omega status doesn’t mean you’ll be small if you have the proper care, like erwin. in essence, it makes it a predisposition, but not a given. the same applies to aggressiveness/submissiveness, however i like to think most of it is social myth.  
> \- (SPOILER) i also feel like if a/b/o were a real thing, folks would be much more finely attuned to birth control meds/reproductive rights and health? so i made up a bunch of medications. isothynide is very not real, lol, and anything else that has you scratching your head probably isn’t either. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> \- any other things i forgot, feel free to comment and ask!


End file.
